Esoteric Loneliness
by TheOtaku2
Summary: Depression is addictive. Gilbert Beilschmidt is one of it's many addicts, unable, it seems, to escape it's pitiless clutches. However, upon meeting a certain blonde-haired Canadian, he feels like he's been thrown a lifeline to end this sadness.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, readers! This is my new story, my second story on this site. Ii was unsure about how to begin this story, but uploaded it regardless. It DOES start out a bit depressing but I promise things will lighten up.

Warnings: attempted suicide, probably some swears (Gasp!) and German. Oh God, not the German.

* * *

Ludwig turned the key in the lock of the apartment he shared with his brother. Stumbling in, he placed the shopping bags onto the counter. "_Bruder, ich bin zu Hause_," He called.

Silence.

"..._Bruder_?" Normally Gilbert would answer immediately, over the sounds of the videogames he so enjoyed to be immersed in. But lately, Gilbert had seemed...distant.

Ludwig walked down the hall and rapped his knuckles on Gilbert's bedroom door. Upon opening it, he saw it was empty and lightless. The living room and his own room were empty too. Finally, getting nervous, the tall German swung open the bathroom door, flicking on the switch.

A pale body was illuminated by the bright light. Dark, crimson liquid pooled.

"Gilbert…?"

**Three Months Later**

_12th February, 2014_

_So, here goes diary entry number _sieben_… I wish I knew what to say._

_A page, to me, is like a blank canvas. It is art. But lately, since therapy started, it's become a chore. I feel...annoyed that I have to write this, that I have to document my feelings to assure people I'm improving._

_I am starting to calm down. I mean, I still….sometimes...cut. _Verdammt_, I know Bonnefoy's gonna be pissed about that. I did convince him I'd stopped._

_ I should be fine. I'm fucking awesome, so why do I have to do these sessions? Yeah, I know you'll read this, Bonnefoy. Fuck you_.

Slamming the pen down onto the wooden desk, Gilbert Beilschmidt gritted his teeth, dragging his pale fingers through his layered white hair.

He couldn't continue this. His next session was in an hour, and he hadn't properly finished his weekly entry.

Gilbert took a few shuddering breaths. He watched in horror as his sleeves slipped down his arms, revealing brand new cuts, recently scabbed over. He pushed the sleeves up again with a wince, standing and grabbing his car keys and diary.

The room was plain, with no plaques or boarders; the familiar smell of dry paint and fancy perfume hung tangibly in the air; Gilbert's throat was dry and he gazed into the cream carpet rather than at his French therapist sitting opposite him: Francis Bonnefoy.

"Good afternoon, Gilbert," Francis began, a pleasant smile glowing behind his platinum locks. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm alright," Mumbled the German as he completed the well-known action of passing his diary to him.

"_Bon, merci_," Francis carefully leafed to the most recent entry, reading it thoroughly with an unreadable expression.

Cautious glacial eyes locked with Gilbert's unusually ruby ones. "You have not expressed clear emotions, Gilbert," Francis closed the book. "Well, apart from your obvious dislike of me." He turned serious. "Would you like to end our sessions?"

A shrug. "_Nein_, I need to...Get fixed." That caused Francis's plucked eyebrows to raise. "Do you believe you are broken?"

"I….I don't feel complete." Gilbert _hated_ admitting he was weak, not himself, but he'd come to accept that things weren't going to change otherwise.

"...Well, I will do all I can to help you feel complete again. Now, I'd like to discuss a particular sentence you wrote."

"_Toll_, shoot." The therapist steepled his slender digits. "You compared writing to an art form. Do you like to draw, or paint?" Gilbert thought about this for a moment. "I tried to draw _und_ paint, _als ich junger war_. But…._Vater_ didn't like to see me doing it."

"Have you any idea why that was?"

_Nein, I have no fucking clue why that bastard was so shitty to me_. "He probably believed it wasn't a very masculine thing to do. Call me Billy Elliott."

Francis crossed his legs, his crimson suit creasing. "That is something we can work with. What if you tried to rekindle your passion for art? Perhaps that could bring back another piece of you, supposing we are continuing with the broken metaphor?"

"_Ja_, let's. But I can't...it's...difficult for me to just pick up a pencil or paint brush."

"So go to a place where you won't be the only one doing it," Upon seeing the German's confused face, Francis explained, "you know, an art class."

Gilbert sat up a little straighter. "Oh. Right. That….could be ok, I guess." His therapist smiled. "I will arrange one for you, and then phone to check the date, time, et cetera. Will that be ok, Gilbert?"

"_Ja. Danke_."

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about today? Anything urgent?"

"_Nein_."

Gilbert stood to leave, his baggy commando trousers hanging on his thin hips, his oversized white hoodie insulating him.

"Gilbert, one last thing." He turned, expectant.

The Frenchman's expression was clearly one of concern as he got up to return his diary. "About the cutting….you _do_ know your limit, _oui_?"

He blinked once. "I know my current tolerance." With that, he left quietly.

* * *

Valentine's day. Bonnefoy had sent him to an art class on fucking _Valentine's Day_, of all the days in the year!

Gilbert swallowed thickly as he approached the Arts & Crafts centre, his large feet dragging on the ground.

He was so unsure about this. What if they didn't like him? What if he found himself unable to socialize? What if they saw the cuts on his forearms?

_Bonny probably thinks I'll meet someone. Fuck, he's so stupid! Firstly, I don't need a partner, and secondly, these classes are full to the brim with couples on days like this anyway!_

The anger weighed on his shoulders like a crouched tiger, it's claws digging into his neck and making his muscles tense.

His knee-high buckled army boots clunked on the spiral stairs to the room he'd been told to go to: Room A3. He'd tried with his appearance today - long-sleeved black Tee, tattered navy waistcoat, cloudy grey frayed skinny jeans and naturally his boots. He'd even tried to style his hair, so that his fringe didn't cover one side of his face and made him look more approachable.

As for his red eyes….the blue contacts he'd put in turned his irises purple, so he knew they couldn't look stranger.

Opening the door tentatively, he scanned the room to see who else was there. A table with a vase of flowers, a polar bear teddy, and a glass of water. There were several easels set up around the room with different vantage points. There were also other tables at which couples sat and did separate drawings.

"_Guten Morgen_," A pleasant-looking brunette came up to Gilbert. She wore fancy clothes covered by a messy apron, and her spectacles gave her that businesswoman kind of look. Gilbert thought she was German at first, but her dialect indicated she was Austrian.

"_Morgen_," He mumbled, shaking her paint-covered hand.

"_Sprechen Sie Englisch? Ich habe Englisch Teilnehmer so muss ich Englisch sprechen_. "

"_Ja_, I can speak English." He offered a small smile, which she returned. "_Gut_. You'll need to find an easel overlooking the specific object you'd like to draw today, ok?"

Nodding, the albino moved away from her, trying not to catch the eyes of curious couples. A burly man wearing a scarf looked at him with burning purple eyes - he decided to avoid his vicinity, and chose an easel allowing him to focus on drawing the glass of water.

The chatter died down as the instructor decided that most of the people who'd signed up were here. She closed the door of the art room.

"Now, good morning, everybody," She rubbed her hands together. "My name is Sophia Edelstein, welcome to art class. Now, today we will be drawing either these objects on the table, or…." Gilbert's ears picked up another sound: someone was knocking on the door. Quiet, but definitely there. He looked at the others in the room, waiting for someone to let them in, but after several moments nobody had moved.

Ignoring Sophia's words, he marched across the room and yanked the door open, to see a shocked face staring back at him.

The younger man on the other side of the door pulled his hands towards his body, as if intimidated by Gilbert's appearance. Gilbert saw he had shoulder-length wavy blonde hair, with one curl spiralling out of the other strands. The man's silver-rimmed glasses slid down his nose; he pushed them up with a thin finger. Trying not to scare him further, Gilbert stepped aside to let him in.

"T-thank you," Mumbled the blonde as he shuffled in.

When the German turned around he noticed the entire class had been watching him, and were now watching the blushing boy scramble to an easel.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't hear you knocking," Sophia said to him as he passed, to which he replied with a sympathetic nod.

Normally Gilbert would've savoured the attention from people, but today he wanted to be invisible. Silently, he moved back to his place, which was right next to the newcomer's.

They had been instructed to paint or draw what was in front of them, but to make it depict their current emotions too.

Gilbert realised he had no pencil; before he could go ask for one a pale hand held one out in front of him. He took it, looking at the young blonde's violet eyes. "_Danke_."

"S'ok. Thanks for...noticing me." Gilbert got a good look at him: he wore a white hoodie with a red maple leaf in the middle, and light blue loose-fitting jeans with sneakers. The younger turned back to his canvas, gently pinching his paintbrush between his fingers.

Taking a calming breath, Gilbert touched pencil to paper. The scratching sound it made comforted him, and the dusty trails of graphite left on the paper looked to him like jigsaw pieces, all fitting together to solve a problem.

Having drawn the basic outline, Gilbert paused to glance at the blonde's work. He was painting the polar-bear teddy, and rather beautifully, too. The way the light had been painted caught the bear's fur and tinted it purple, green and gold. The deep black eyes had perfect captured reflections in them, and the paws were spotted with delicate pink pads.

"It's _wunderbar_…" The blonde looked up from his canvas, instantly blushing. "O-oh, y-you really think so?"

"_Ja_, I like the way you've painted it. So many different colours you'd never normally see."

Looking down and dipping the paintbrush into the water pot, the blonde man said, "...I do. I see these kinds of things all the time. I seem to pick up on what most people ignore."

Gilbert tilted his head. "You do it well. Ah! Sorry, my name is…" He extended a ghostly pale hand, "Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Warily shaking the German's hand, the blonde replied, "N-nice to meet you, Gilbert. I'm Matthew Williams."

_Matthew...Why do I feel like I've heard of him before?_

"Do you come to these classes often?"

Matthew continued painting whilst speaking, "Mm, only when I can afford to. It helps me to...practise painting better."

"And socialise, right?" Matthew swallowed. "...Actually, a lot of people don't notice me. That's why I was glad you opened the door for me- sometimes no one hears me, and the door locks from the inside so I can't get in. I-I've tried t-talking to people before, but…" He trailed off. By his accent, though hardly distinguishable because of his soft voice, Gilbert thought he must be American, or -what was the other one? - _Canadian._

The two-hour class progressed, and Gilbert was putting the finishing shading to his drawing when a quiet voice spoke again. "W-why did you draw the glass of water?"

Facing Matthew, Gilbert gave a soft smile. "I, uh...The feeling of drawing water...calms me down. It's really difficult to draw at times, but...I like challenges."

Matthew timidly peered at the water more carefully. "What's the reflection you've drawn, in the water? I-is….is that a skull?"

Gilbert blinked - he didn't think it was that easy to decipher. "..._Ja_."

After the class the two men took their drawings and left the building, still exchanging bits of conversation. The clouds promising rain hung dense in the air.

"Seems like a storm is coming," Mumbled Matthew as they crossed the path leading to the car park.

"Mm. Hey, do you live far from here?" Gilbert blurted. _Idiot, you sound like a stalker!_

Matthew clutched his art to his thin chest. "Uhm...No, no not far."

"C-cool." Droplets of cold water began to fall from the sky. "Still, I could give you a lift if you'd like?"

Matthew wasn't sure what to make of this. He'd never talked with a person this long before! Well, besides his brother and fathers. It wasn't a bad feeling, but he was new to it. "W-well, if it's no t-trouble…."

"_Nein_, no trouble." Gilbert led them to his silver Volkswagen.

The German opened the car door; the timid Canadian slid into the seat and buckled up. As Gilbert sat down and reached for the heater, his sleeve rolled up to reveal three vertical slits along the flesh.

After hearing a soft gasp, Gilbert noticed and yanked the sleeve down, trying not to look at Matthew.

"Y-your…"

Offering a friendly smile the albino interrupted, "Hm? Oh, I have a cat, He's vicious. So, uh, where was it you live?" Matthew directed him to his apartment.

Climbing steadily out of the car and shielding his painting from the now heavy rain with his hoodie. "T-thank you. A-are you going to another of those classes?"

Gilbert was taken by surprise, he really hadn't thought about it. "I….I might. Are you?" A nod of a blonde-haired head.

"You should," Matthew blurted suddenly, his cheeks burning. "I- I mean, y-you're really good at art. The next one's on the 23rd."

Gilbert looked at him, comforted by his words. "_Danke_. I might see you soon then."

* * *

_15th February, 2014_

_Diary entry number _acht_. So I went to the stupid art class yesterday. It...wasn't too bad, I guess. Managed to get a nice drawing done, if I say so myself. I liked drawing it, it...felt natural. I haven't drawn in years._

_I communicated with another human extensively, too, so I can cross that off my bucket list. He's nice, and _wirklich_ shy. He wanted me to go for another class, so….I don't know. I might._

Sighing, Gilbert got up to make some coffee.

He called to his blonde brother sitting on the couch, "Hey, Lud, you want coffee?"

"_Nein, danke_. I'm going out for a bit."

"Oh?" He boiled the water as Ludwig stood. "With...with Feliciano. Is that alright?"

"_Ja_, of course! Go, I'll be fine." Stepping closer to him, the tall blonde narrowed his glacial eyes. "Are you sure?" _I don't like leaving you alone, not after_…

"Do you want to take me with you?" Silence. "Thought not. Lud, I'm good. Go and chill for a bit, you can call me if you're worried."

_I'm worried every single minute you're alone._ With a look of defeat, Ludwig grabbed his car keys and left Gilbert to his business.

Opening a cutlery drawer, the silver-haired man picked up a blunt dinner knife. No sharp knives or utensils were allowed in his presence- hell, he was lucky Ludwig allowed these knives to be kept.

He looked at his red-eyed reflection in the stainless steel. It reminded him of his drawing, of the skull reflected in the water. His skull.

He whispered gently as he cradled the knife between his fingers and thumb, "_Hallo_, old friend."

* * *

Yay, clinical depression for PruPru! Nah, I'm sure I'll pick up the mood. Probably. Maybe. How about you leave a sweet review for me? Correcting any foreign language phrases I use is welcomed.

Translations:

_Bruder, ich bin zu Hause _- Brother, I'm home

_Sieben_ - Seven

_Verdammt_ - Dammit

_Bon, merci_ - Good, thank you

_Toll_ - Great

_Als ich junger war _- When I was younger

_Vater_ - Father

_Nein_ - No

_Ja, danke_ - Yes, thanks

_Oui_ - Yes

_Guten Morgen _- Good morning

_Sprechen Sie Englisch? Ich habe Englisch Teilnehmer so muss ich Englisch sprechen _- Do you speak English? I have English participants so I need to speak English

_Wunderbar_ - Wonderful

_Acht_ - Eight

_Wirklich_ - Really

_Hallo_ - Hello


	2. Chapter 2

Managed to update quickly, yes! Pulled an all-nighter for writing, but it was worth it. Anyway, shh. Read. No, listen: _read. _

* * *

_17th February, 2014_

_Diary entry number _neun_. I know I'm supposed to update every day but I haven't been doing much, so I never bothered. Listened to Rammstein. Talked with _mein Bruder_. I even went shopping, bought some stuff we needed. I'm just so...unawesome. I don't even know what happened, I….I used to love being the centre of attention. Craved it. I had many friends, and a few enemies. People either wanted to be around me, or were too scared to approach._

_I used to be able to make people laugh. I used to feel like my heart was beating._

_ I don't know what happened._

Forcefully pulling the Biro away from the diary paper, Gilbert saw droplets of water run down his nose, felt them travel down his cheeks. When did he start crying? His runny nose told him at least a few minutes ago. One could get so lost in artwork sometimes.

_I have to write. It's all I have, I have to write!_

Gingerly touching the pen down again, wiping his face with a concealing sleeve, he continued. _It felt strange, falling into this pit. All feeling was lost - every single day I am numb. I'm fucking sick of it. I want to be able to feel happy, to feel sad, to feel anything._

_I guess it almost changed when….at the class. I was talking to someone, and I felt almost human again. Just a spark of something. I felt a heartbeat._

Gilbert snorted in spite of himself. _I sound like a fucking pansy._

What the hell was Bonny gonna think of this sappy shit? Well, it wasn't like he cared. Lying back in his chair, he sat and thought and waited for his session on the 19th to roll around.

* * *

"Morning, Gilbert." The ever-smartly dressed Frenchman welcomed him as he sat himself in the usual chair, which was so puffy it felt like he was being eaten by it. "_Morgen_."

"How are you feeling today?"

Without thinking, the German replied, "My arms are sore." _Shit._

A pause. "May I see your arms."

"..."

Francis leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Gilbert, I need you to show me your arms, _s'il vous plaît_." Sighing, brow furrowed in shame, Gilbert rolled up his sleeves.

Francis sat back, a hand over his chin. "Ok." He couldn't think of anything else to say.

He was rather shocked, for this...method of self harming was unknown to the therapist. Gilbert had not only cut, but attempted to make small holes in his arms. It looked like both arms were diseased.

Reaching into his briefcase, Francis took out a small pack of alcohol wipes and handed a few to the German client. "What are these?" Gilbert asked, taking them.

"Wipe your arms with them. When did you do this?"  
Gilbert touched one of the damp wipes to a wound, then pulled it back harshly, "_Damn,_ that hurt!"

Francis tried to be patient. "Yes, it will sting. But you have to make sure that if you do this you at least reduce chance of infection. Now, when did you do this?"

Gilbert hissed as he cleaned the wounds. "Argh, about two days ago."

The Frenchman nodded. "Can I see you diary please?"

He handed the little black book to his therapist to read.

"So, you would like to become popular again?"

"And awesome."

Nodding, Francis muttered, "_Oui_, and awesome." He looked up from the book. "What led to you becoming unpopular, by your definition?"

Gilbert thought back. "Uhm….Probably...when _Vater_ kicked us out."

"Oh? When was that?"

"About seven years ago, so I'd have been sixteen then. Ludwig would've been...about thirteen. I had a part time job but couldn't afford a place, so we stayed at a Hostel."

"Why did your father kick you out?"

Gilbert sniffed, looking at the floor. "..._Mutter_ died when she gave birth to Ludwig. Ever since, _Vater_ had blamed him for it and ridiculed him. I always stepped in to protect him." Francis tucked a silvery strand behind his ear. "Did you not blame him also then?"

"_Nein_, of course not!" Gilbert blurted, much to Francis's surprise. "I mean...I'd never blame someone's death on a newborn baby. That's ridiculous."

"I see. And you father became tired of you both, so he threw you out?" Gilbert nodded.

Francis consulted the book again. "And here, you say you felt a bit different, when you were talking to another person?"

"_Ja_, it was...nice."

Francis smiled softly. "Good. If you liked it, why not invite them to have coffee or something?" Noticing Gilbert's unsure reaction, he amended, "Or, I can arrange for you to go to another class?"

"That...Yeah. I mean, he told me the next was on the 23rd."

"Alright, _bon_. I'll see what I can do. But, Gilbert…" He hesitated. "I'm going to have to mention this cutting to your brother."

"_Was? Nein_!" Gilbert scowled.

"_Oui_, I have to. You know that if you're posing a threat to yourself I have to-"  
"Not Ludwig! You can't tell him, it'll put more stress on him and-"

"Gilbert, calm down." The hardened tone shut him up. "Imagine this situation reversed: Ludwig now sits in your chair with your difficulties. Would you want to know if he was hurting himself again?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Well, _yes_, but-"

"He is the only close family you have, and I have to tell someone. Otherwise I will have to give you a referral to a more specialised care centre."

Snorting derisively, the German muttered, "The nut house."

"_Non_, I said no such thing. I mean people who can help you to stop this before it becomes life-threatening."

"No, just, wait_. Bitte_, don't tell him yet. Let me go to another class, maybe I'll feel even better. I promise I'll try really hard to stop-"

"I cannot bend the rules on the basis of a promise. I am going to at least warm him, and you can still go to the classes."

Putting a palm to his cheek, Gilbert mumbled, "..._Ich verstehe._" _I have to stop._

_I have to try._

* * *

Leaning on the front door to close it behind him, Gilbert sighed when he saw his brother's stern face as he sat on the sofa, thick arms folded. "Show me your arms."

"_Warum_? You know what it is."

"_Lass mich deine Arme sehen, Bruder_."

"_Nein._" Ludwig stood up, the bulking man he was, and stormed over to his elder sibling. He took Gilbert's left elbow and lifted his arm, moving his sleeve down.

"Goddammit, Ludwig! Leave-!" The state of his arm was revealed and Ludwig stumbled away. "_Mein Gott_…" He murmured in disbelief. "Wh-when did you do this?"

Gilbert tucked his arms behind his back. "...Two days ago."

"I knew it! I knew I couldn't leave you alone! And now…" The brothers' gazes locked. Gilbert saw that Ludwig, the brother he'd always been bested by, was on the verge of tears.

_Weine nicht, Brüderlein_.

"Ludwig, _bitte_…" Moving toward him, Gilbert pleaded with his brother. "Don't, don't...It's all right…"

"_Nicht wahr_. I thought I'd helped you! I thought you were….getting better…" He angrily swiped his eyes clear of tears.

Gilbert moved to put his hands on Ludwig's broad shoulders. "Look at me. _Bruder_." Reluctantly, bloodshot ice-blue eyes met his. "I appreciate your help. It...it _is_ helping. But I...I need to do this. This helps too. It's as essential to me as breathing."

His younger brother pushed his hands off of him. "If you keep doing it you won't be breathing any longer!"

"_Oi, beruhige dich_-"

"_Nein!_ Look, I knew you were cutting again! I knew!" That shut Gilbert up. "It didn't look too bad, so I didn't say anything," Ludwig continued, "but this...When I got the call from Bonnefoy today, I...I really wished it wasn't true. For your sake."

"..._Was…_"

"If we cannot help you, we'll look into more serious ways of treatment." Ludwig deadpanned. Gilbert backed away, "You're...gonna send me away. Just like _Vater_. You're-"

"I would never, Gilbert. I would never send you away or kick you out. But I can't help you by myself."

"I didn't want to tell you because you'd get worried, and you have enough stress from work and Feli and-"

"_Ruhig sein_, I will always worry about you, no matter where you are or what your mental state is," Ludwig clenched his jaw.

Gilbert buried his face in his hands, knowing tears were overspilling, "I want this to stop. I want this to stop." Muscled arms held him close as Ludwig hugged his shaking form. "It will, _Bruder_. Me, Bonnefoy and whoever else you need will help you. You know that." As his older brother sobbed into his chest, Ludwig placed a hand on those layered locks to calm him. "But you have to let us help."

After a few silent moments Gilbert uttered, "...You should be the older sibling." That earned a soft chuckle from the buff blonde. "..._Ja, vielleicht_."

* * *

Gilbert turned on his lamp. It was the only light, and cast a hazy glow which darkened the shadows of his room. He took off his night shirt and looked down at his body. _Skinny, I'm too skinny. But I don't want to eat._

Holding out his torn arms, he examined the abrasions. The outlines of the cuts and little holes were like ruffled fabric, dyed pink. Doilies of contusions marbled the white skin and the scabs looked plastic under the yellowish light. _I promised Ludwig I'd stop. I have to try and-_

_No, I **am** going to stop._

Looking back to his arms, he realised something was wrong: the split skin was rolling into itself, curling back up to his shoulders like bloody bandages. They moved and writhed, unravelling, licking along his neck. They lapped at his ears, leaving crimson slashes.

As he began to whimper and groan at the pain, more of the flesh became animated, peeled painfully from his collarbone, wrapping around his throat as spindly tendons poked his eyes, reminding him of the fake blue contacts he wore. _Where are your real eyes?_ They whispered inside his brain. _Why must your skin control you?_

"_Ich weiss nicht! Ich weiss nicht_!" He screamed, feeling the wet, blood-smattered skin drag over his cheeks.

_Dein Name ist noch Einsamkeit!_

"_Unrecht, das falsch ist!_" Screaming it at the top of his lungs, the albino twisted and turned in the sheets, soaked in his blood, wet cloth sticking to the fresh cuts.

"_NEIN!_" The door to his bedroom flew open, and in burst Ludwig, "_Bruder! Was ist los?_"

Sitting up and clawing at his upper body, Gilbert was shocked to see that his skin had no more lacerations on it than earlier that day.

_Ein Traum….gerade ein Traum._ Panting and covered in a sheen of perspiration, the white-haired German looked to his brother. "_Ein Albtraum_," He explained. Letting out a long breath and wiping his eyes, Ludwig went over and sat by him, flicking on the light. "You didn't take your sleeping pills again," He stated bluntly.

Gilbert wore a pitied expression. "Figured you wouldn't want me taking pills."

"It's not about what I want, it's about what you need. You need a good night's sleep, without the nightmares."

"They're not that bad." Gilbert tried, to which his brother gave a skeptical expression. "You were screaming. Now put a shirt on before you catch a cold and try to sleep," He advised, standing.

"You put a shirt on before you poke someone's eye out," Rolling his eyes Ludwig left the room.

* * *

Four days went by without much fuss, (His arms were hurting less as Ludwig had forced him to get them treated and bandaged at Casualty.) and Gilbert was becoming ever more excited and nervous about going to the class again. Could he manage to get back into art again? What would he create? Would Matthew be there?

_Shut up,_ he thought to himself, _it's not important whether he's there or not! I go there to do art, not talk to random people I don't know!_

Nevertheless, when he walked into Room A3, he couldn't help but smile when he saw a head of wavy golden hair standing behind an easel. Moving to the unattended one next to him, the German whispered, "Hi."

Matthew spun, eyes wide. "You came! I-I mean, I thought you might not…" He blushed as he trailed off. Gilbert let out a soft chuckle. "Well, I didn't have anything better to do." Matthew looked at him, seemingly hurt, and he blurted, "Ah! Or rather, this _was_ the better thing to do! I did want to go," he rubbed his hands anxiously.

"O-ok," Replied the Canadian in his ever-soft voice, and turned back to setting out his supplies: pencils, stencils, water paints and a sponge. Gilbert noticed he'd set the teddy up in a different position on the nearby table. "You like drawing that bear, huh?"

"Hm? O-oh, yeah I guess," Matthew offered a small smile, "I'm really fond of polar bears."

"Cute."

They stood in silence for a while, listening to Sophia's exaggerated introduction of, 'artistry with no strings attached' - basically, Gilbert summed up, they had no particular criteria to follow and they could paint/draw whatever they'd like.

"What are you gonna paint, Gilbert?" Matthew asked. "Another skull?"

He looked at the smaller blonde. "Hey, I don't always draw skulls. I might draw a whole skeleton today." He moved off to get a set of water colours, when he accidentally bumped into a small woman wearing a kimono.

"Sorry, Miss," He stuttered as he began to move away.

"Miss? _Miss?_ How dare you, you rat!" The woman - man! - turned around, his long brown hair pulled into a ponytail swinging and his Oriental face red with humiliation.

_Well, fuck_. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking-"

"That's no reason to mistake my gender, stupid German!" His accent informed Gilbert that he was probably Chinese. An angry Chinaman, great. Suddenly, a large gloved hand tapped the Chinese man's slim shoulder and the equally proportional owner of said hand, in a long grey trenchcoat, stood behind him. "_нет_, don't bother the poor man, Yao. He is merely confused, yes?"

Strong, intimidating sapphire purple eyes glinted at Gilbert through short strands of pale pair. The Russian's thick scarf would around his neck loosely and flowed like water.

Internally, Gilbert pouted. _I'm not sure if he's attractive or scary. Eh, both._

Meanwhile, Yao was still angry at him, now directing lines of aggressive and probably offensive Chinese at him, which he ignored.

_He's staring at me. Don't be creepy, buddy. Just blink. Do you know how to blink? ...No, no he doesn't. Should I just….run? Walk. Walking might look less cowardly_. Turning abruptly, the albino briskly made his way back to Matthew with the paints.

"You t-took your time," Greeted the Canadian man gently. Gilbert nodded, "Got told off for accidentally calling Yao a woman." He gestured to point out the still-fuming Chinaman, currently being soothed by the bulky Russian.

Matthew giggled (And Gilbert had to wipe the word adorable out of his head), "Yeah, I've done that. But I don't think he heard…"

"You got away lightly, then."

Gilbert decided to focus on a vase of flowers - in particular, one single flower: a yellow lily. As he sketched and painted it, exploring it's every minute detail and splash of colour, he thought of the Japanese style flower-arranging, where they typically only use one flower. _They focus on the perfection of a single bloom, the very representation of mortality_.

"You should roll up your sleeves or your shirt will get m-messy…" Matthew spoke quietly. Gilbert swallowed thickly as he swept the brush over the paper. "It's ok, this is an old Tee."

He reached for the paint; Matthew glimpsed bandages underneath.

"C-can I talk to you a moment? Outside?"

The corridor was empty and cold as they stood on the linoleum tiles.

"What happened to your arms?" The Canadian asked softly. Gilbert refused to meet his violet gaze. "My, uh...My cat got mad at me," He replied in his thick German accent.

_I think you made the cat mad_, thought Matthew as he took in a calming breath. "W-why don't you just get rid of the cat, if it's hurting you?"

Gilbert leaned against the wall, making the paintings rattle. "I can't. It...makes me feel safe."

"Gilbert, there are ways to feel safe without hurting." A sun-kissed hand reached out for his shoulder, but the German turned away, scowling. "Do you have any better suggestions."

Letting his hand fall to his side, Matthew whispered, "I can't think of any right now, but let's start with a coffee."

Hesitant, Gilbert turned his head, the pale strands falling over his purple eyes. "..._Das ist eine gute Idee_."

* * *

It was relatively quiet in the chosen _Costa_ cafe; they set down the newly finished paintings in their booth while Gilbert went to order.

Returning minutes later the albino set down the coffees.

"Thank you," Matthew slid his coffee closer to him, took a sip, and cringed. "Something wrong?" Asked Gilbert as he drank his.

"Uhm, no, it's just…" Matthew pulled out a small bottle of maple syrup from his jacket, and poured a generous amount into the dark liquid.

"...You're a proper Canadian, eh?" Gilbert teased, mimicking the 'eh' so commonly associated with Canadians.

"That's right, Hoser. Hockey, maple syrup and moose all the way." That earned a joined laugh and previously unknown warm smiles.

But Matthew still had a more serious topic reserved. "...So, that cat. How long has it been bothering you?"

"'Bout seven years," Gilbert looked into his cup as he stirred it with a spoon.

"That's a l-long time...Maybe that means it won't live for much longer," Matthew tried, knowing full well that they were not talking about a real cat.

The taller man sighed, cradling the warm cup in both pale hands. "It's still got eight lives left."

"How did you take the first life?"

"I...cut it. I hurt it, and that stopped it for a while. But it came back with another life."

I want to help him, thought Matthew as he watched the German answer his questions. _I don't know him, but I want to help him_. "Do you want to hurt it often?"

"_Ja._ Every day is a battle."

He waited a few moments patiently. "...D-do you want an ally in the battle?"

From behind a silver fringe Gilbert's purple eyes widened. "Why would you help me?"

Matthew tilted his head, the long locks framing his round face. "I want to. Plus, I don't like cats either."

"Mm, birds are better." Gilbert pulled a smirk. "Hey, say 'get outta my house'."

Matthew laughed, flushed. "No."

"_Bitte_, go on."

The Canadian sighed. "...Get _ooutta_ my_ house_." Gilbert chuckled, feeling a little bit lighter having had a laugh. "Well, Mattie, I accept your help."

"M-Mattie?" He tried it out: it sounded a little more like him.

"_Ja, klein_ Mattie. Is it ok if I call you that?"

Mattie buried his hands in the pockets of his puffy jacket, smiling abashedly. "_Oui_."

* * *

Reviews, _bitte__? _Evaluations? Death threats? I'll read 'em all~

Translations:

_Neun_ - Nine

_S'il vous plaît _- Please

_Mutter _- Mother

_Bitte _- Please

_Ich verstehe _- I understand

_Warum_ - Why

_Lass mich deine Arme sehen, Bruder _- Let me see your arms, brother

_Mein Gott_ - My God

_Weine nicht, Brüderlein_. _- _Don't cry, brother dear. (There's much controversy about the meaning of _Brüderlein, _it can mean: little brother/ younger brother/ sweet brother

_Nicht wahr _- Not true

_Oi, beruhige dich - _Hey, chill out

_Was _- What

_Ruhig sein _- Be calm/ be quiet

_Ja, vielleicht _- Yeah, maybe

_Ich weiss nicht! Ich weiss nicht_! _- _I don't know! I don't know!

_Dein Name ist noch Einsamkeit!_ _- _Your name is still Loneliness!

_Unrecht, das falsch ist! _- Wrong, that's wrong!

_Was ist los? _- What's wrong?

___Ein Traum….gerade ein Traum._ - A dream...just a dream.

_Ein Albtraum_ - A nightmare

_нет _(_Nyet_) - No

_Das ist eine gute Idee_. - That's a good idea.

_Ja, klein_ Mattie - Yeah, little Mattie


	3. Chapter 3

Apologies, I understand this is a bit late... However, Otaku2 has been very busy. Please review _und_ let me know your wonderful thoughts~

* * *

A phone number. Mattie had given him his phone number. _Willingly_.

Upon arriving home, Gilbert took out his Iphone and literally just stared at the string of numbers. A simple sequence of digits, set out and coded in a particular way, so that he could reach a particular person if he ever 'wanted to talk about the cat'.

So, Mattie was just another person_ he __couldn't_ talk to about 'the cat'. Everyone he knew was special to him: too special to bother them with his problems. They were his, and his alone to sort out. Well, and Bonnefoy's, but that Frenchman was _paid_ to help, he didn't count.

Mattie was...a lovely new person he'd met, and Gilbert didn't want to ruin any chance of friendship by coming out with something stupid like, "Hey, so, I'm a cutter, but just ignore it".

It was a paradox; Mattie was offering his help, but Gilbert's stubbornness of heart refused to let him be helped. _Stupid fucking feelings._ It was true: he'd felt...happier in the little blonde man's presence, he'd laughed, made _him_ laugh. Mattie had made Gilbert feel a little bit more human, even if it was only for a short while.

The next morning, Gilbert was already tiring of watching TV and playing his videogames - especially as he'd agreed to play multiplayer _why was his team so stupid._

Ludwig made them breakfast, which Gilbert only picked at, before getting ready for work. "I can get a day off if you-"

"_Nein_."

The younger of the two sighed, tightening his tie. "Alright. But I'm sending someone over to check you while I'm gone."  
"_Was_?" Gilbert turned on the sofa, setting his controller down. "No, you don't question this," Snapped Ludwig, "I can't leave you alone anymore. Not yet, anyway. Just think of it as company."

"Yeah, _bribed_ company." That earned a chuckle from the blonde. "He doesn't need payment." Styling his hair once more he left, the front door swinging shut quietly after his giant frame.

_Who the hell did he...oh_. Realising who it would be, and content with that choice, he leaned back in his pyjamas, carrying on with the game, finding new ways to kill pixelated people.

_Knock knock knock._ Half an hour later, when the knocks sounded, Gilbert was fast asleep.

The knocking came again, harder this time.

_Knock knock knock knock knock knock._

A chirpy voice followed too, "Vee~ Gilbert, it's me! ...Gilbert?"

Silence. Hazel eyes widened and the newcomer banged frantically on the door. "Gilbert? Gilbert!"

"Oh _mein Gott,_ WHAT?" Came the frustrated reply pf a sleepy German. Rising from his comfortable position on the sofa, Gilbert mussed his hair into it's usual style as he opened the front door.

"Waah! You're ok!" He was hit full-on in the chest as his brother's 'friend' Feliciano Vargas threw his arms around him, squeezing.

Gilbert's sour expression didn't change. "..._Hallo_, Feliciano."

Kissing him on both cheeks in greeting, the energetic Italian man beamed. "Just call me Feli, I've told you before!"

_Why does he have to shout everything._

"Fine," Gilbert pried himself from Feli's hug and went into the apartment kitchenette. "Want anything?"

"No, I'm fine, _grazie_."

Having made himself a coffee, Gilbert sat back down onto the furniture, with Feli doing the same. He switched his game off in favour of some crappy American soap opera.

About ten minutes later the Italian brunette spoke up. "S-so...how have you been?"

Well, I haven't tried to kill myself in a while. "...I'm alright."

"Ludwig said you'd say that."

"_Was_?" A head of silver hair turned to the tanned Italian, who for once looked deadly serious. "I know you're not fine, Gil."

"Ok, great, then you can join the rest of the people I know. Even strangers can see I'm not right." _Especially Mattie._

"But we're here to help you! Anything you need-"

"I need a damned _blade_, Feli," Gilbert snapped hotly, scowling. "Everyone spits out the same crap as you, but they can't really help. I've been doing therapy for two months now. Nothing's changed. I still can't change anything. There's nothing left for me here." He put his face in his palms, biting his lip to keep from sobbing. "I want to d-"

"Shut up." The unusual hard tone made him look at Feli in shock.

Feli folded his arms tightly- a telltale trait of his big brother, Romano.

"I knew a woman once. She was a friend of the family, and she had a little girl," the tone softened as Feli continued. "...Me and _mio fratello_ used to babysit her. She was pretty and really smart.

"By age eight she had decided she wanted to be a dancer. This wasn't a little girl phase: she'd been saying that for a couple of years now and went to ballet practice often. She put on shows for our families...I remember how graceful she looked when she danced. _Bello_." Gilbert noticed that Feliciano was looking away, out the window, as if watching her again.

"When she was fifteen she twisted her ankle while practising. In hospital, she got so sad that she tried to make herself walk around before she was healed," Feli cleared his throat. "She fell down some stairs, and the doctors said she'd fractured her spine. From the waist down, she couldn't feel her legs." Now the Italian's bright eyes were watering.

"She began to cut her legs, to try and feel something. She was put on anti-depressants to help her deal with it, but...she was so stubborn. So determined."

Snapping out of the trance, Feliciano's gaze locked with Gilbert's. "They found her, a week before her sixteenth birthday, dead."

Gilbert swallowed. "...Why are you telling me this."

"Because there are hundreds of people who gave up their life because their dream was taken from them. You have the chance to find a dream, pick yourself up, and follow it." Feli put a soft hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "Don't waste your life."

Pale hands rested on fragile knees. "...I don't want to. But dying...ending it...wouldn't be a waste of my life. It would be a cure," Watery purple eyes lowered, but Feli moved and took his hands, clasped together.

"I don't think you need to be cured," The Italian smiled. "I think you just need some guidance."

Gilbert studied the man's face intently: his rounded cheeks, smooth honey-brown skin; wide, interested auburn eyes that matched his hair colour shone brightly.

_He's….kind of attractive too._

The albino was leaning closer to him, gently, subtly, without realising what he was doing.

Their lips touched.

Gilbert heard a soft gasp. _I...I can't feel anything. It doesn't feel like I'm kissing him!_

Leaning further forward, Gilbert put a hand on the back of Feli's head, pressing his lips onto his, trying to deepen the kiss.

"Mm," Feli moaned quietly, eyes closing slowly, soft lips parting to allow the invasion of Gilbert's tongue.

Suddenly, the albino's eyelids snapped open. _What am I doing?!_

Pulling away, Gilbert leapt up and headed for the door, grabbing his keys, wallet and phone on the way out of his apartment.

He heard the panicked voice calling after him. "Gilbert! Gilbert, wait!"

He stormed to the car's parking space, only to remember that Ludwig had taken it to work. _Verdammt!_

Turning, he sprinted to the only other place he managed to find peace: the park. Feet pounding the concrete, wounded arms throbbing with each step, he was through the main gates and onto the green within minutes.

Now running on a concrete cycle path, Gilbert's lungs began to burn. _Man, I gotta sit down. Where's a bench?_

Turning a corner of a flower bed, he stopped and bent over, hands on his knees, panting.

When he wearily lifted his head, he saw a bench about a metre away. On that bench, sat Matthew Williams.

Gilbert's chest was heaving, throat parched, and his eyes were stinging. "...H...Hey, Mattie," He breathed, wiping his brow.

Mattie looked like he'd been frozen after recoiling from the German's sudden appearance. Adjusting his rounded glasses, the petite Canadian replied, "Hello, Gilbert."

Gilbert straightened and shuffled over to sit next to him. Mattie had a pile of papers on his lap and a Biro clutched in his right hand.

"So, what you up to?" Mattie swallowed, his violet eyes still wide. "Gilbert, why are you in your bed clothes?"

Gilbert looked down. How had he forgotten? His baggy chequed bottoms and oversized Tee with bleach stains couldn't be mistaken for any other kind of wear. "I wanted to go for a run and didn't have time to change."

"You're barefoot."

"It was a snap decision." Mattie put his hands into his pockets. "What were you running from, the cat?" Gilbert put a hand on his other forearm, squeezing the flesh under the bandages, reminding him. "N-no, an Italian."

Matthew pulled a face. "Do I want to know?"

"_Nein._" Gilbert let out a soft chuckle. "Are you doing college work or something?"

"No, I don't go to college," Said Matthew. "I work in a coffee shop. This is just...recreational."

The albino leaned over to see the work. "It's all in French."

"Canadian French. I lived in Quebec for a little while."

"Psh, same thing."

Mattie laughed, "No, it's not."

"You both say _bonjour_, don't you?"

"Aren't there different dialects of German too?" Gilbert became silent.

Mattie had no idea what to say to him. _He's just….I don't want to know where he just ran from, but perhaps I should make sure he's alright, maybe even invite-_

His words were ahead of him. "D-do y-you wanna come over to mine for a b-bit? I c-could lend you some shoes...perhaps?" Mattie internally cursed his nervous stutter.

_How is it humanly possible to be this nice_, thought the German as he hesitantly accepted.

Receiving many an odd glance as they set about walking to Mattie's house, the smaller man suddenly remembered something. "A-about my parents…"

"Are they overprotective?"

"N-no, well….kind of, but," Mattie stopped and looked tentatively up at him through waved yellowing locks, "they're also gay."

Gilbert tilted his head. "Are you expecting me to care?" Mattie cringed slightly. _Shit, too harsh._ "I-I mean, I _do_ care, b-but homosexuals don't bother me."

"Oh, right. T-that's good, then." The Canadian blonde smiled, and Gilbert's heart fluttered - a feeling he was very much estranged from. _I feel….well, that's it, I guess. I feel. But that's good enough for now._

They reached the cosy-looking apartment a few blocks away from the park, and Matthew let them in.

Travelling down the short hallway with Gilbert at his side, he called, "I'm home!"

Silence. Mattie called again, as if no one had heard.

This time, a cheerful answer was heard, "Welcome home, Matthew!" It was an unmistakably British accent, and Gilbert smiled. _Of course. Of course one of his parents would be English._

Leading the way Mattie stopped in a room which appeared to be a kitchen. Honey-coloured wooden cupboards and surfaces took up most of the room, naturally a fridge, a small dining table and a short blonde man stood behind the island.

He had short straight hair which Gilbert found extremely similar to straw, wore simple clothes (including a pink apron) and HOLY HELL the guy had eyebrows. Those were some pretty thick eyebrows.

Looking up from his baking, the man's green eyes widened. "Ah….hello," He muttered, wiping his hands on the rosy fabric.

"Dad, this is Gilbert. I h-hope you don't mind me bringing him over…." Mattie flushed, his rounded face turning bright crimson, making his dad chuckle. "No, no of course not." He looked at Gilbert, who now felt embarrassed at his state. "However, you do look as if you could benefit from a cup of tea."

"Uh, _nein, danke_." _English, dummkopf, speak English!_ "It's nice to meet you," He managed, feeling the cold tiles under his bare feet.

"You're German? You really do know how to pick them, Matthew." The British man commented with a grin as he poured water into the kettle.

Mattie's fists clenched by his sides, "Hey, that's not-!"

"What does he mean?" Asked the German albino inquisitively.

"N-nothing, he's-"

"He's not your first catch?" The Brit looked puzzled as he poured the now-boiled water into a teapot.

Mattie gave a facial expression akin to a scowl. "_Dad,_ shut up." It was the most heated Gilbert had ever heard his voice sound - that is to say, it sounded mildly bemused.

Mattie's dad raised one very comical eyebrow. "Alright, alright. I was wondering why you'd bring him over in the daytime anyway…" Approaching the duo he held out a hand to Gilbert. "How do you do, I'm Arthur."

Gilbert nodded, shaking his hand.

Back-tracking to behind the island, Arthur pulled on oven gloves and reached down to pull out a tray of lightly burned scones. Setting the tray down, he beamed with pride at Gilbert and Matthew. "I made scones! Here, have one." The older male threw one to him.

Gilbert stared at it for a few seconds, then glanced at Mattie, who shook his head slowly. Nevertheless, he took a bite.

* * *

"A-are you ok?" Asked a panicked Canadian as he hurriedly passed the choking German a glass of water, closing his bedroom door behind him. Gilbert had, as expected, almost thrown up after eating the scone, and Arthur had gotten stroppy - the safest move had been to retreat.

Gilbert chugged the glass of water, coughing as he sat on the single bed. He let a couple of moments go by. "Am I gonna die now?" He managed a small smirk.

Relieved, Mattie returned the smile. "I don't think so. It will probably test your immune system, though."

"Ah, great, as if it isn't struggling already." Gilbert looked around the room: white walls with red borders on the top and bottom around the room, red carpet, a couple of shelves filled with geographical books, maps and French fictional novels; the bed was plain and covered with a maple-leaf print duvet. The whole room screamed Canada, and it made Gilbert grin.

"Well, at least you don't have a hockey rink in here."

Mattie blushed, pushing his glasses up again. "You don't have anything typically German in your room?"

.._.Nothing that is acceptable to tell you about._ "Ah, apart from myself? _Nein_, not really."

They sat there, quietly existing. "So, uh, where's this brother I've heard about?"

Mattie looked at him. "Oh...He doesn't live with us anymore. Dad and him...kind of fell out. But I guess that happens when people adopt children, too. He still comes over to visit, though. I mean, he's old enough to live on his own."

_Sounds like a familiar story._ "...And your, uh, other dad?"

"He's at work, but he might be home soon."

"He a Brit too?"

Mattie shook his head. "He's French, actually." _That explains a lot._

Gilbert pulled his knees up, shuffling back to lean against the headboard, his arms hugging his shins. The sensation drew a sharp intake of breath from him.

Matthew didn't meet his gaze. "...How are your arms today?"

"...Uh...b-better, _danke_."

"And yourself?"

Arms tightened their hold, linking like chains. "...Also better."

"Will you stop lying, please." It wasn't a question, nor a demand. It was simply a plead. Mattie tucked a curl of golden hair behind his ear, his elegant hands pressed into the sheets around them.

Sighing, the albino muttered under his breath, "I was going to text you."

"...So why didn't you?" The tone was numb, limiting.

"I...didn't want to bother you. You might've been busy."

Mattie let out a snort. "Gilbert, do I look like I live a jewel-coated life? I work three days a week, and the rest I spend alone or with my parents. I'm not my popular brother, but I don't mind. I would've liked it if you'd texted or called."

Rolling his eyes, Gilbert retorted, "Well, I didn't know that. I was just trying to be considerate, I- ouch!" His eyes began to sting again, badly. He put his hands over them.

The Canadian seated next to him got rolled onto his knees. "Gilbert, what's wrong?"

Pain….burning pain. It felt as if someone had poured lemon juice in his eyes, and - _shit, my contacts._

"C-can you show me where the bathroom is?" He blurted, blinking furiously.

Guiding him by the shoulders, Matthew opened the bathroom door and stepped away from him. "I-if I upset you, I'm sorry-"

"_Nein_, it is my contact lenses…" Rushing to the sink, Gilbert splashed cold water onto his eyes, gently using his fingertips to squeeze out the blue lenses. _Nein….he'll see, he'll see!_

_But I can't keep them in any longer, I'll go blind!_

_My secret….or my eyesight. Which do I value more….I want to….see his face, I…. _Both contacts were out, lying in a pool of liquid on the basin.

Gilbert didn't face the mirror, but he didn't face the blonde either. He didn't know what he would do if Mattie saw his eyes, the eyes which had previously caused him so much trouble.

Mattie looked down at the lenses. "Are your eyes alright now?" Gilbert nodded, his clipped hair bobbing. "A bit sore, but I can see more."

"How long did you wear them?"

"...Three days longer than I should have."

Mattie stepped closer, "Gilbert, you could've been blinded!" He tried to see his face, but the taller man turned away quickly.

A ringing sounded from Gilbert's pocket, and he was thankful for the interruption as he answered the inevitable call. "_Ja, was_."

"_Oi, Bruder! Italy just called und said you'd run off. Where are you? I'll come get you_."

"_Nein_, don't worry. I-I'm alright," Matthew narrowed his eyes and tried to spin Gilbert around. "Oi, let me go-"

"_Bruder? Was ist los? Are you with someone?"_

Gilbert planted his feet, firmly facing a tiled wall. "_Ja, ich bin_. Look, I'll be back later. _Auf Wiederhören_."

"Wait-" He hung up and put the phone back into his pocket, turning it off with a strong exhale.

"...You ran away from home." A quiet voice behind him stated.

Gilbert looked over his shoulder, his fringe covering the shocking orbs. "_Ja,_ so what? Everyone does at some point. I-" Mattie moved quickly, pulling Gilbert's shoulders so he fully faced him, catching a glimpse of his eyes.

"Your eyes….they're…." Mattie couldn't even finish his sentence. Gilbert's eyes were black circles of rock floating on a sea of crimson lava, speckled with sparks of scarlet. They shined, wet with tears and water, so clear he could see himself in the reflection.

"I know, I know, they're red, I look demented - do you have some shades or something-?"

"You don't look demented." Gilbert still shut his eyes, gritting his teeth. Mattie wore a pitied expression as he whispered, "Gilbert, you don't look demented at all. I like your eyes."

_Bang_. Gilbert felt as if a blade had pierced his heart, there was that much emotion flowing through it.

All those years of being teased, taunted, bullied, but worst of all, hated for his eye colour were all swept away.

All those children who used to shout: _You're inhuman! You're a monster! Evil! Fiend, you're the son of-_

_I like your eyes. I like your eyes_. No one had ever said that before. Gilbert himself had never been able to think it, let alone say it.

"Y-you do?" He despised how weak his voice sounded: it sounded like the tortured child within his memories, calling out for comfort, even if it was nothing but a beautiful lie.

"_Oui_," The shorter man offered a soothing tone. "I really like your eyes."

Gilbert's throat was tightening. _Why is it-? Oh no. Nein. Don't cry don't cry don't-_

Clearing his throat loudly, the albino managed to conceal a runaway tear, passing it off as irritation from the lenses.

"People hate them," He muttered, looking at the floor. "Everyone has always hated them. Even I did. You are the first person to say otherwise, Mattie."

The Canadian was speechless. What could be said, in answer to that? "I-I'm just saying the truth," The words felt so soft leaving his mouth it was as if they were feathers following air currents.

"Don't be such a girl," Gilbert mumbled, but it was evident he didn't mean it.

They heard the front door open and close, and a familiar voice floated into Gilbert's ears, "_Bonjour, Arthur_!"

_Oh Scheiße. This is going to be interesting._

* * *

Please, if any of you can offer corrections, especially for the Italian bits, I'd be grateful.

Translations:

_Grazie _- Thank you

_Mi_o_ fratello_ -My brother

_Bello_ - Beautiful

_Dummkopf_ - Idiot (Literally 'stupid head')

_Was ist los? _- What's wrong?

_Ja, ich_ _bin_- Yes, I am

_Auf Wiederhören _- Goodbye (This phrase is used when on the phone)

_Scheiße _- Shit


	4. Chapter 4

...*Peeks out from behind a door* H-Hello, guys. Don't hurt me, I wanted to update sooner. I really did. The point is, I'm updating now. AND if I can I'll have a chapter up tomorrow too~

* * *

Mattie opened the door, his other hand shoved into his hoodie pocket. "_Père_ is home," there was relief in his voice as he went to greet him.

Gilbert listened as his quiet footsteps left, and voices rose as the Frenchman greeted his son gleefully.

"_Mon Matthieu_! Have you had a nice day?" Conversation and the like flowed easily, and the German found himself resenting their kind of relationship compared to that of his family's.

He knew the voice well, because many a time he'd heard it whisper false comfort into his ears. Paid comfort. _Bonnefoy_. Only now did he realise that Matthew actually did resemble his French father a bit, but mostly because of the hairstyle.

Arthur chuckled and was saying something about a guest.

Mattie's face appeared at the doorway to the bathroom. "Come on, Gilbert-"

"Uh, I-" The white-haired man was tugged down the hallway and into the kitchen.

"_Ohonhonhon_, what's this I hear about a friend-" Francis Bonnefoy, in all his platinum glory, let his jaw drop upon seeing who his son's new friend was.

And what state he was in.

"Gilbert….what are you…" He couldn't get the words out.

Mattie looked to his father abruptly. "You know him?"

Sparkling crystal blue eyes looked to him. "_Oui_, he is one of my clients."

Mattie's violet eyes widened and he faced Gilbert. "Is this true?"

Gilbert remained silent, too exhausted to be shocked.

"Gilbert, why are you here?" Asked Francis.

"I was invited." The attention of the Frenchman turned back towards his son. "_Matthieu_-"

"I didn't know!" Blurted the Canadian defensively. "We met at an art class-"

Suddenly Francis realised. _Mon Dieu….Matthieu is the boy Gilbert mentioned…_

"Francis, what on Earth is going on here?" Arthur asked from behind his eyebrows. Francis took each younger man by the shoulder, leading them away. "Worry not,_ mon cher_, I will sort this out."

The room Francis introduced as his study took Gilbert by surprise: antique furniture, regal carpets, floral and Renaissance patterns adorning every inch. Mattie sat stiffly on an ancient armchair, whilst Gilbert slumped onto a small sofa. Francis remained standing. He sighed. "So you met on the day I sent you to art class."

Both nodded.

"And are you in a re-"

"_Nein_," Snapped Gilbert. "If that's all you're worried about then I-"

"We're just friends," Matthew's quiet voice strained to be heard. There was nothing but quiet as Bonnefoy assessed the situation.

Finally, he spoke up, "If you are friends, I have no problem with that. But-" the Frenchman glanced at Mattie, "-I'm going to have to stop being Gilbert's therapist."

"_Was_? Why?" Gilbert's angry tone pierced the air.

"Because it will interfere with our professional client-therapist relationship," Francis explained simply. "I do not mind you being friends with my son but it means you will, to some extent, be involved in my personal life. I will no longer be able to keep an unbiased perspective to help you with your therapy."

_I knew it_, thought Matthew. _I knew he was getting help._

"I-if it will help Gilbert, we could stop being friends." The suggestion left his lips reluctantly, surprising both his father and friend.

"_Non_, it is a bit late. I can simply give Gilbert a referral but-" He carried on quickly after catching the albino's glare- "you two shouldn't throw away friendship. Don't ever do that to yourselves. Now, if you'll excuse_ moi_, I have a phone call to make." With those words, he left.

"I-I'm sorry, Gilbert," Said man looked over to Matthew, who had his knuckles over his mouth and appeared tearful.

Suddenly guilt flowed into him, and his thin eyebrows sunk in pity. "N-no, it's not your fault-"

"It is. Because of me, you'll have to see a new therapist and start therapy all over again a-and I just wanted to h-help you."

Shaking his head, Gilbert got up and knelt by the blonde man, sternly meeting his eyes. "Mattie, Mattie, listen. You _are_ helping."

Purple eyes drowned in red. "How can I be helping, especially after how I found you today."

Gilbert exhaled quietly. "You're helping, just by being a friend to me. I feel...I feel a bit better around you, like the world isn't such a bad place."

Mattie let out a sniffle, pushing his glasses up to catch the premature tears.

Without warning, the fragile Canadian slid down to the floor and wrapped his arms gently around Gilbert's broad shoulders, laying his head on his collarbone.

"..." The German was unable to think; his arms moved of their own accord, encircling the blonde's skinny waist. For the first time in years, Gilbert hugged someone back. He felt Mattie's head on his shoulder, his soft breathing tickling the sensitive skin on his neck, his limbs wanting to hold him, both in apology and gratitude.

Their heads turned at the sound of a door opening. "Boys, Ludwig is here to collect you, Gil- _ohonhonhonhon_, only friends hm?"

Mattie quickly relinquished his hug, blushing brightly. Gilbert, meanwhile, was scowling. _Bloody pervert_. "Oi, I don't need picking up, I'm the older brother!"

"Mm, well he's come all this way so might it not be courteous to go with him?"

"...Whatever," He dismissed as he rose to his still-bare feet. "Bye, Mattie."

"B-bye, Gilbert." Blonde strands danced around the timid Canadian's face as he also stood, watching as Gilbert passed Francis, his nostrils flared at the humiliation of being collected by his little brother. Well, as Francis so often thought, _not _so little now.

Strolling over, Matthew glimpsed a grin on Francis's handsome features. "_Quoi_?"

Arms unfolded. "You like him."

"_Oui, comme un ami_." Resorting to the language he spoke when he was very embarrassed, Mattie looked away.

His father laughed again, blue eyes sparkling. "_Ohonhon, c'est vrai_!"

_"La ferme_, it's not true. Anyway, he's n-not...I mean, I don't think he's…"

"You'll have to ask him." Straightening, Francis put an arm around Matthew. "_Mais, Matthieu_, please be careful around him. He is, after all, recovering."

"R-recovering? F-from what?"

"I cannot divulge that information, _cher_. But I can say he really would appreciate a friend right now."

"...He said I'd helped him, since we met. That I make him feel a bit better." Mattie bunched up his sleeves into his fists and pressed them between his face and Francis's chest as he leaned into him.

The Frenchman tutted as he rubbed one of Mattie's red cheeks with a soft thumb. "However did I raise such a cute son, hm? Come on, I bet Dad's made a _really_ nice meal for us."

* * *

The engine purring smoothly under their bodies, Gilbert chewed his lip, refusing to look at his brother as he drove them home.

"I get a call from Francis telling me you were at his all along."

"_Na_, not all the time. I ran around the park first." Ludwig rolled his eyes as he turned the Volkswagen into a lane.

_"Und_ why were you at your therapist's house?" Gilbert rested his chin on his bony knuckles, staring at passing buildings, all different shades of grey and brown. "_Es ist nicht wichtig_."

"_Ja, es ist._" When Gilbert still didn't answer him, Ludwig decided to focus on driving and carry the conversation on when they arrived home.

The door clicked shut. quick steps were heard as Gilbert attempted to make his escape to his room.

"Guh!" He was yanked back by Ludwig pulling his Tee collar. "Oi, why did you run off_ heute_?"

"My feet are cold, _Bruder_," Gilbert remarked, struggling.

"_Das ist mir egal. Warum haben Sie laufen_?"

The albino's bright ruby eyes met the pale blue of his younger brother's. _He's never had any fucking trouble with his appearance, other than too many Italians fighting over him._

"Don't you care about big brother's feet, Lud? I need them you know."

Ludwig manoeuvred him to a wall, using his forearm to pin him. Gilbert winced, "Alright, alright! I-I was running from Feliciano."

The blonde's attractive face scrunched with a frown. "_Wieso_?"

Gilbert swallowed, feeling Ludwig's hold loosen. "._.Ich….Ich küsste ihn._"

"_Was_?" Ludwig didn't sound angry as he'd predicted, only shocked. Pushing him away gruffly, Gilbert stormed a few paces, his back to him. "I fucking_ kissed_ him alright! I didn't mean to, but….I couldn't, and he was so _nett_, _und_-"

"He didn't say anything about that," Mumbled Ludwig.

Gilbert's hands gripped his own hips. "Of course not, he's probably ashamed that he kissed me back!"

"He...he did?" Ludwig's voice was quiet behind him. _Oh….I forgot._ Whirling round, he said, "Jeez, why don't you just ask him out already?"

The buff blonde went crimson. "H-hey-! I-I've already said, I'm not-" He took a calming breath. "...Look, this is you we're talking about, not me. So you ran because you kissed Feli."

"_Ja_, but I found Mattie in the park," Gilbert pulled on some slippers as he spoke, "He invited me to his house, and I didn't know that Bonnefoy was his _Vater_."

"Mattie? Is he from your art classes?" Gilbert nodded.

"Do you like him?" Red eyes momentarily closed. "What do you mean by that."

"I mean, do you like him?" _Ugh. Stupid meathead Bruder_. "I don't know!" Gilbert admitted frustratedly, "I don't know what I feel. I mean, I thought I was straight! Today I find myself kissing a guy! I can't….understand this, it's….intangible." He wrapped his arms around himself. "Oh, and another thing. Bonnefoy said he-"

"I know, he told me. We'll just find you a new-"  
"New therapist. Got it. Ludwig, I'm really tired."

Pushing back his hair, Ludwig sighed. "_Denn schlafen_. I'm sorry for asking so many questions, I didn't want to bother you."

"It's ok, I know you're...you're just worried." _I'm so sick of people worrying about me_.

* * *

_Bitte_, review and suggest improvements, ideas, general stuffs. Oh and thank you to **Princess-Canada** for helping with a few translations in this chapter :)

Translations:

_Père_ _- _Father

_Mon Matthieu! _- My Matthew!

_Mon Dieu _- My God

_Mon cher _- My dear

_Quoi? _- What?

_Oui, comme un ami_. - Yes, as a friend.

_C'est vrai_! - It's true!

_La ferme _- Shut up

_Mais _- But

_Es ist nicht wichtig_. - It is not important.

_Ja, es ist_ - Yes, it is

_Heute _- Today

_Das ist mir egal. Warum haben Sie laufen_? - I don't care. Why did you run?

_Wieso_? - Why?

_..Ich….Ich küsste ihn _- ..I...I kissed him

_Denn schlafen _- Then sleep


	5. Chapter 5

Look, it's tomorrow already! As promised, here is chapter 5. Want another chapter tomorrow too? I could do that~

* * *

Finally putting his phone down after twenty minutes of staring at it, Gilbert removed his filthy pyjamas he'd been wearing all day and walked over to his full-length mirror. He remembered how much he'd liked that mirror, when he was younger. He'd been so vain he refused to go out without checking his appearance every morning.

The weak wreck of a man reflected back into his vision now was not the same Gilbert he'd been years ago.

No, what he saw now was merely a skeleton wrapped in skin of similar design to latex: it was smooth, breakable, unbearably thin. His feet were sore from running, but he relished the feel of carpet under them. His legs, long and thin, were ones he was sure most girls would kill for. _So damn skinny. Everyone thinks it looks sexy, but I know the truth_. He'd never known the feeling of heavy flesh on his bones and he regretted that; he'd do anything to put on some decent weight. It would stop people staring at his bony joints, would've stopped his previous bed-partners from staring at his almost visible ribcage and his caved stomach.

_Ludwig's a fucking beast compared to me. Nobody knows we're brothers on sight. It's like….it's like we're two different sides of the same country. I'm East...and he is West._

His collarbone was so prominent, Gilbert wondered how Mattie hadn't cut himself on it earlier. Turning around, he saw that his back was straight and his vertebrae looked like fins making a dotted line through the middle. Even his arse was flat. His arse was as flat as cardboard.

Speaking of arses, Gilbert pondered who Bonnefoy would send him to. He'd never particularly liked the Frenchman, but that wasn't to say he hadn't helped him a lot.

For example, suggesting the use of a diary-

He looked over to the little black book sitting on his shelf. He then looked at his phone, and then finally back to himself. Specifically, to his eyes.

They'd been feeling much better since he took out the blue contacts earlier that day, and they were no longer bloodshot. _Psh, my eyes always look bloodshot. Bloodshot and bruised._

But then Gilbert heard Matthew's soft voice in his head: _I like your eyes._

Admittedly, if the albino met someone with red eyes, he'd be a bit wary of them. But, unlike the bullies of his childhood, and his father, he wouldn't revile them for something they couldn't change. He wouldn't call them a demon.

_For all we know, demons have blue eyes. That would turn the tables, now, wouldn't it?_

_More people have blue eyes than red._

An image of Matthew's face appeared in his mind. _Maybe angels have violet eyes._

The bandages were still on his arms, freshly changed yesterday evening. As he pulled on clean boxers Gilbert made his way quietly to the bathroom, sneaking past his brother's closed bedroom door. The apartment was dark, but he knew the layout like the back of his hand and arrived on the cold tiles in no time. A light was switched on, casting the little room in a pure glow.

Gilbert slowly took off the tape sealing the bandages, and tentatively unwrapped his forearms. The skin was healing perfectly: the scabs were less heated, the surrounding skin atoning to it's usual milky colour, and all the dried blood had been wiped away.

His arms were beginning to look like they had before, before he'd broken down.

As much as Gilbert liked seeing his arms recovering this well, and as much as he wanted to continue getting better, he….wanted to cut again. He was so bored of seeing the same white skin, not so much as a birthmark to marr it. His skin was another thing he'd been teased about, considering the fashionable skin tone now was tan.

He wanted to pick up a blade, a thin silvery blade, and mould it into his arms. There would be pain, and blood, but the colour mesmerised him. It wasn't green, like the trees and fields he saw every day; it wasn't blue like the sky or the eyes of his golden-boy brother; it wasn't yellow like the sun which damaged his fair complexion.

It was _red_, a colour he'd always hated and loved simultaneously.

Gilbert jolted when he realised something was digging into his arm: his fingernail. He'd been unconsciously scratching the surface of the wounds with it.

_I need to do it. But maybe, maybe there's a way to do it and make everyone think I'm better. Perhaps then they won't pity me. But not now, not tonight._

Redressing his arms and brushing his teeth, Gilbert sleepily made his way to bed and was fast asleep in seconds.

_Gilbert…..Gil…..Oi, Gilbert._ The soft, deep voice of Ludwig brought his consciousness back slowly, as Gilbert opened his eyes to the darkness of his room. Reaching for his Iphone, he used it as a torch.

There was no one else in the room, and the door was closed. So how had he heard Ludwig calling his name?

_Meow._ The remainder of sleep drained from his brain, and he scoured the room once more. Nothing. _Meow_. It echoed inside his right ear, and he spun to look behind him.

"Ah!" A tail, long and furry and black, was curled around one of his bedposts. Scrambling out of the bed, Gilbert got into a protective stance, muscles tense.

A large paw reached over his left shoulder; long, uncut claws raked over the joint, leaving red scratches.

"Fuck off!" Gilbert put a hand over the scratch, panting softly. Pressing his frame against the cold door, he paused. Waited. Listened.

_Meow_…. A pair of bright eyes opened, each one with a feline-like black vertical slit. It was perched on his bed, whatever it was.

Gilbert was surprised when he saw the colour of those eyes: they were blue. Not like Ludwig's, or Bonnefoy's; around the pupil was a deep navy, which bled into a royal and then a sky blue. They held his crimson gaze for a few minutes, each pair of orbs trying to understand the other.

Gilbert couldn't take it much longer. His door had been closed, his _window_ had been closed, so how had this animal gotten in?

His pale hand rested on the door handle. Cold fingers gently applied pressure. _Just a little more….slowly….then I can get out-_

_HISS_! The loud hissing startled him; the door was yanked open and he burst out, feet slipping on the floorboards, toenails clicking.

….Clicking? Was it _his_ nails that were clicking? He risked a glance behind him as his steps slowed. The clicking had stopped too; looking down at his feet, he yelped when he saw sleek brown claws puncturing through the skin where his nails had once been.

_No. No no no._ His hands grabbed one of his feet, pulled it up for a closer look.

He had claws. Claws dripping with blood…._his_ blood most likely. _How? These weren't the claws which got my shoulder….are they?_

_Meow. Meow,_ the rasping mewling sounded again, somewhere in the distance. Another hiss brought him to his knees in the middle of the living room, tears running down his cheeks.

_Bitte, bitte nein. Nicht du. You weren't real, I knew you weren't real…._

_Meow._

He couldn't see anything now, and he didn't want to. Gilbert pushed his layered hair to the sides of his face, brushing away the salty trails of water.

_I gotta get up. I have to see this thing, if it's here._ Feeling his way along the walls, he got to a switch.

Yellowish light pooled in the room, illuminating the well-known furniture, and a new figure.

His eyes narrowed as he spotted the blue-eyed cat sitting upon the table. It was a thin being, with jet black fur and long silver whiskers. Relief flooded through Gilbert. _It's just a cat. Just a normal cat_. He stole a glance at his feet again, to discover that they looked normal too.

Feeling a bit stupid for panicking, Gilbert held out a hand to the cat. "Here kitty, it's alright. I don't know how you got in but I guess I startled you."

The cat didn't move and it didn't blink.

Stepping closer to it, Gilbert continued, "Come on, I have to put you outside. We're not allowed animals in here." _Plus we don't like cats._

The cat's eyelids drooped, as if it was outright rejecting his words.

"Come on!" _Stupid cat!_

Suddenly the cat let out a warning hiss, standing up, it's back hunched.

Gilbert lunged, hands out, trying to grab the ferocious feline, but it dodged and pounced. His head turned too fast; he felt the cords in his neck strain as the mammal-like shadow cleared his shoulder, it's oversized claws cutting into his jugular.

"Nngh, God _damn_!" Slapping a hand over the deep incision Gilbert's eyes followed the cat's movements as it headed for- _ah, fucking stupid cat!_

He could feel the blood draining from his throat, every single heartbeat now a threat rather than an aid. His thin body made contact with the floor again as he collapsed, blood making the boards slippery.

_It was going to Ludwig's room._ He crawled at a desperate pace to his younger brother's bedroom, his one free hand shoving it open violently.

It was at the exact point when Ludwig was awakened and called his brother's name that Gilbert lost consciousness.

* * *

Gilbert's eyes fluttered open; hazy blue light filtered in through the curtains. _Hang on_, he thought. _This isn't my room._

He felt warm blankets covering him, and he sat up to better see his surroundings. From the amount of books on history and a picture of Feliciano taped to the wardrobe, he knew it was Ludwig's room.

Well, that and the fact Ludwig himself was asleep, sitting upright against the headboard. Gilbert leaned over and tapped Ludwig's arm lightly, waiting as he woke up.

"_Bruder_…?" Muttered the brawny German. "Are you alright?"

"Uh, _ja,_ but...why am I in your bed?"

Ludwig tilted his head. "You don't remember anything?"

_Well, I know I didn't have alcohol._ "_Nein_, am I going to want to hear this?"

"I heard some noises during the night, but ignored them," Ludwig explained. "Then at around 3am you burst into my room, hysterical, and passed out."

Suddenly it all came back to him: the noises, the cat, the...injuries. His hand flew to his neck, expecting pain to signal the wound caused by the cat's claws, but...there was nothing.

Not even a scratch.

"L-Ludwig, was there anything else in the room last night? Or...was there blood or something on me when you found me?"

"I couldn't see very well, but I don't think there was anything on you. And I'm sure there wasn't anything else in the room other than us. _Warum_?"

_Oh fuck. Oh, holy fucking shit. It wasn't real. It wasn't real!_

_NEIN!_

Gilbert began to shake, staring at his hands as if they belonged to someone else.

"A-are these real…?" He whispered, facing Ludwig with a pained expression on his face. "Are you? Is any of this real?"

Ludwig held his gaze intently. "_Bruder_, what happened last night?"

"I-I found a cat, in m-my room. I chased it, and i-it cut me. But it was a nightmare, Lud." Gilbert paused, his red eyes wide with fear. "_Nein...nicht ein Albtraum,_ a hallucination!"

"Calm down." It wasn't a shout, but a strict command.

Ludwig gently put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "This, right here, now, is real. _Verstehst du_?"

The albino nodded slowly. "_Verstanden_. I….I need help, Lud."

"I will talk to Francis today, tell him it's urgent. Come here." He awkwardly put his arms around the shaking elder sibling.

_ He's been through so much_, Ludwig thought silently, _it's a miracle he's coped with it for this long. But now….now it's getting to him._

* * *

Now, before anyone says they're confused, let me tell you...I am too. That dream/hallucination thing back there? Let me explain. So Gilbert went to bed, and ended up having a nightmare. During that nightmare, however, he woke up but his brain couldn't comprehend what was going on and _that_ led to the hallucination with all the blood and stuff. Probably.

Translations:

_Bitte, bitte nein. Nicht du. _- Please, please no. Not you.

_Nicht ein Albtraum - _Not a nightmare

_Verstehst du_? - Do you understand?

_Verstanden _- I understand (It's more of a military phrase but I thought it fitting.)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter _sechs_ for you all. Yes I know it's along chapter, but that just means there's more for you to enjoy.

* * *

"Maybe you should call someone, just to talk," Suggested the younger of the two.

"Like who?" Gilbert's tone was derisive.

"...Mattie."

_"Nein_, I'm not...I don't want to bother him."

Ludwig looked at him. "So he's given you his contacts." Gilbert blushed. "_Ja_, so?"

"So, he did that so you could communicate. You don't even have to mention what happened last night, just….talk."

"_Aber_ I only saw him yesterday! How freaking desperate would that make me look?"

"From what I've heard, Mattie's not the kind of person to perceive people as desperate. Am I right?"

From under the diagonal silver fringe frowned his older brother. "I have you to talk to. And whenever I can get a referral, the new therapist too."

Ludwig pinched his brow in frustration. "_Ja_, but you need to be more social than that. It might help you feel better- you said talking to Mattie made you feel better _und_ that's good, Gilbert. It'll be fine: go find your phone and call him or something."

_His tone is...strange._ "...Wait...I've never heard you be so encouraging, _Bruder_," Gilbert's eyes narrowed.

Ludwig looked nervous. "..._Was?_" _He hesitated! He doesn't think that….I'm…._

"You think I'm gay for him!" Gilbert climbed out of the bed, hands on his hips. "_Du denkst dass ich schwul bin!_"

"_Nein, was? Das ist falsch_. I just think having a _friend_ would help you."

_Fucking emphasis on that fucking word. Fucking fuck fuckity_- Gilbert's thoughts were nothing but profanity as he went into an embarrassed rage. "Oi, you're no better!"

That caught Ludwig unawares. He folded his arms. "_Wie_?"

"_Naja_, you have such a boner for Feliciano and you won't admit it! Hell, everyone else can see it, it's a wonder Feli can't!" Ludwig squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth. "_Bruder_…"

"_Halt die Klappe_, I know this! I've seen how you look at him! Things could be better with him, Lud, you know-"

"BE QUIET." Ludwig's deep voice thundered through Gilbert's ears, quieting him. Sighing, Ludwig swung his legs over the side of the bed. "...Fine. I _do_...like….him. BUT-" He projected before Gilbert could interrupt, "I don't want things to change between us. He's a good friend, one of my first and- I just don't want to ruin everything."

Looking at his little brother's tomato-red cheeks made the albino smile. _Kyaaaaa, he goes from powerful to cute in seconds!_

"...He might feel the same way, you know."

"After you said he kissed you back? _Ich glaube dir nicht._" Gilbert's pale shoulders sagged. "_Aber_-"

Ludwig seemed to relax a bit, letting out a long breath. "I don't hate you for it, and I do not think you are gay. _Bitte_, talk to him. I'll go and make breakfast, you need to put on some weight."

_And you need to lose a few brain cells holy shit when did you get smarter than me_. However, their heated discussion made Gilbert feel more light-hearted. He hadn't acted like his old, childish self in a long time.

* * *

He was taking this step-by-step. So far, it was two hours after Ludwig had suggested talking to Mattie, and he'd managed to pick the phone up, scroll through the contacts, and stare at his number.

_….Should I call him, or text him? He might be busy. At least if I text his ringtone of like the Canadian anthem or whatever won't go off. Plus, my voice sounds even weirder over the phone._

His fingertips hovered over the touchscreen, illuminated by the fluorescent lights.

He was almost shaking as he tapped the 'send text' icon, and while trying to compose said text his brain threw nothing but random words at him.

_Face house phone flowers buildings apple I'M NOT GAY._

Gilbert pouted at the half-sentence he'd just typed. He deleted all ramblings apart from the last three words and snorted. _At least, I don't think so_. His bedroom door rocked open; in came Ludwig with a mug of coffee. The sound was so sudden that when Gilbert twisted to see who it was, the hand holding the phone slipped...and…

**Message sent.**

Gilbert's nostrils flared in anger. "_Verdammt, Bruder_! You made me send a weird text! Now he'll think I'm crazy!" Ludwig, stunned, set down the mug slowly, apologised and left.

For half an hour, there was no reply. For half an hour, the albino checked his inbox every two minutes. Just when he decided he would never text anyone ever again, his phone beeped.

_Kill me_. He opened the message.

**Um...Alright. That's a strange thing to say :3 Are you ok?**

Yes. No. Maybe. He wasn't sure; he felt as if he knew nothing about himself. Acting quickly, he typed a reply: **Haha, ja I am ok. I was just playing around with my phone and pressed send by accident. Sorry :/**

A few seconds passed, then - _beep_: **It's alright, we all make mistakes. I would've replied earlier, but I was working~**

_Working? Oh yeah, the coffee shop_, Gilbert reminded himself.

**Sorry to interrupt. Working at a coffee shop must be cool :)**

_Beep._ **Well, if you like coffee I guess.**

Fingers typed without direction. **Yeah. I like coffee, it's nice. I'm drinking coffee right now**. After pressing send on that one he mentally slapped himself. _Fucking retard! 'I like coffee'? What are you, twelve?!_

_Beep._ **Me too! Snap :3**

**Ja, snap :) Uh, so...I was wondering if you wanted to hang later?**

_Beep_. **I'm sorry, I can't. I have work and then Père wants to take me shopping. :$**

Gilbert's mean inner voice sung the word 'rejected' inside his head, and he didn't know how to respond. Minutes later another text from the Canadian came: **But I can see you the day after tomorrow, if you want?**

This time he was quick to answer, almost too eagerly, **Ja I'd love to! I, uh, we could arrange details a bit later?**_ Nice one, jackass. Balance out the desperation with vague comments._

_Beep._ **Oui, alright. I have to go, my break's over, but we can talk soon ok :)**

**Ok, bye :)**

Gilbert felt the tension drain from his body, and his heart rate slowed down. _At least I got the 'sound-like-a-stalker' bit right._

Ludwig knocked on the door. "Have you talked to him?"

"Yes but the idiot part of my brain did all the typing. We're meeting up on _Donnerstag_."

"_Gut_," Replied Ludwig, genuinely pleased that his brother had salvaged the remainder of his ego and talked to the Canadian. Through the door Gilbert's playful voice rang again, "Hey, you should arrange a meeting with Feli, see if you can get a_ taste_-"

"SHUT UP." Now thoroughly displeased, Ludwig stormed off in a huff.

* * *

_12th March, 2014_

_Diary entry number _zehn_. I don't know why I'm still doing this diary thing, seeing as I no longer have a therapist right now. Maybe I just want to write._

_ I managed to keep Mattie as a friend, which is great. But Bonnefoy decided he had to go, on the grounds of being professional I guess. Dummkopf Frenchman, like he classifies anything as professional._

Gilbert pressed his lips together._ It's not like I'm gonna miss him as a therapist, he thought bitterly._

The pen kissed the paper again. _My arms are healing, really well. Feels like….I'm more stable._

Lie, lie, lie, lie. Gilbert spilled out white untruths and tricks, knowing that anyone who happened to read this would believe that he was healing. Why would someone unstable record these kind of thoughts in their own private notebook, truly believing no one else would see it? Logic dictated that they wouldn't, and pointed out that by this logic Gilbert was regaining his hold on life.

_Just because I'm unstable doesn't mean I'm stupid. In fact, surely the scarier thing about patients is that the more intelligent they are, the more they can manipulate._

Gilbert honestly didn't want to manipulate anyone - especially not Ludwig, or Mattie, or even Bonnefoy. But he needed an escape from reality and if he had to lie for that to be possible, he would.

Tucking the pen into his jeans pocket, the albino strolled into the kitchen. Ludwig looked up from his book he was reading on the sofa. "Are you ok?"

_Why does everyone keep asking that!_ He turned, bearing a small smile. "_Ja_, just looking for a snack." He turned his back and began searching through drawers.

"I'm making lunch soon."

"Well, this is just a small _imbiss._" A little drawer was pulled open; inside was a selection of cutlery.

_Bingo._ Reflected in his crimson orbs was blunt dinner knives and forks, newly washed spoons, whisks, other various cooking utensils and…. Having found something useful to him, Gilbert pocketed it and also got a packet of crisps to remain inconspicuous.

* * *

His room seemed too bright. He closed the curtains, locked the door, set up one of his violent videogames as background noise, and gathered up a large wad of tissues. _This would be so much easier to do in the bathroom, but Lud would get suspicious. _He removed his jeans; they fell to the floor in defeat.

Pale digits sweeped back his uneven, spiked hair as he held the tool in his hand.

It wasn't much; he hadn't used one to do this before, but it was the only really sharp thing he could find: a pizza cutter. Placing a fingertip on the smooth edge, he flicked the wheel and watched how it spun.

It was sharp and simple, just like his mind.

Opening his legs, keeping the wad of tissue under his left thigh, Gilbert let out a long breath. _I should start by doing it quick, I've never cut here before._

He made the blade spin again, very fast. Scrunching his eyes shut, he scraped it vertically downwards on the inside flesh.

_Fuck, it didn't cut._ Maybe I need to… He held the blade still between forefinger and thumb, and repeated the action. The flesh was separated smoothly, cleanly, the blood welling and drooling down onto the tissue, staining it. An eruption of relief flooded Gilbert's head: he felt like the pain trapped inside his body had been bled out, if only a little.

_Such a sweet escape._

* * *

The next day Gilbert woke early, took a trip to the bathroom and cut his legs again. He only cut the insides of his thighs because the hot weather would be coming soon and he wanted to be able to wear shorts. The extensive wounds he inflicted also made him grateful for his skinny legs: it meant the damaged flesh didn't touch when he walked.

He remembered what Bonnefoy had said about infection, and so tried to put various preventative ointments on the cuts as well as bandaging them. He was able to wear a genuine, relaxed smile that day, because the outlet he'd found allowed others to believe he was getting better.

Hell, Gilbert felt so numb and content that he even managed to text Matthew again, during his break. **Morning :) Nice day isn't it?**

_Beep._ **Sure is, I'd love to be out at the beach or something…Oh, almost forgot to tell you. I have work again tomorrow but we can still meet up, is that alright?**

**Ja, it's fine. What time do you finish?**

_Beep_. **5pm. I know that's a bit late, but I'm sure we can find something to do :)** For some reason that reminded Gilbert of his starting sentence of 'I'm not gay', but he didn't know why. An idea hit him and he quickly typed, **Ooh what about a cinema trip? I'll pay**

Mattie's reply was also fast. **That's a good idea, but don't worry about money. I'll have my paycheck by then anyway. So, uh, meet in front of the cinema tomorrow then?**

**Sure. See ya, Mattie :)**

As it turned out there was another text from him. **But, Gil, can...can I ask a favour about tomorrow?**

Gilbert frowned. What was this about? **Um, ja, ok. What?**

The beep came a few minutes later. **Could you not wear the contacts, s'il te plaît?**

The albino didn't like the sound of this favour. Naturally Matthew didn't know what turmoil he'd been put through because of his eyes, but he must understand that many people are scared of the unique. But maybe it was just because, as Gilbert remembered him saying, he liked his eyes.

Sighing in defeat he sent a message back. **...Fine, I won't. But can I wear shades?**

**Of course, I know how stupid some people are when they see uncommon features on a person. See you :3**

"Lud!" Gilbert yelled, and his brother poked his head around the door. "_Was?_ I have to go to work-"

"Can I use the car tomorrow? You know, me and Mattie are meeting up." Ice blue orbs narrowed. "What are you going to be doing?"

"Fucking," Gilbert replied, the word laced with sarcasm. "We're going to the cinema. I'm meeting him there."

"I'll drop you off then." He was gone before Gilbert could launch a protest. _Stupid overprotective Bruder._

* * *

Translations:

_Aber _- But

_Du denkst dass ich schwul bin! _- You think that I'm gay!

_Nein, was? Das ist falsch. _- No, what? That's wrong.

_Wie_? - How?

_Naja - _Well

_Halt die Klappe_ - Shut up (Literally it means 'hold the flap' but I have heard Germans use it)

_Ich glaube dir nicht. _- I don't believe you.

_Zehn _- Ten

_Imbiss _- Snack

_Donnerstag_ - Thursday


	7. Chapter 7

Gotta love holidays, I managed to get chapter 7 written up for your viewing pleasure~

* * *

With a violent shove, Gilbert's wardrobe was yanked open, the door crashing against the wall and drawing a GODDAMMIT BRUDER BE QUIETER shout from Ludwig.

"But I don't know what to wear~" He whined, pouting.

The frustrated blonde appeared, arms folded over his black vest top. "_Kleider._"

Gilbert shot him a glare, and began fishing through his stash of clothes on hangers.

"Why don't you just wear jeans and a hoodie, like normal?"

_….Yeah, why don't I do that?_ He asked himself_. Why am I treating this like it's a date?_

_Did I just think of this as a date?_

_Date._ As his thoughts deteriorated, the pale-haired older brother pulled out a couple of items of clothing. "You're right, it's no big deal."

_And it is certainly not a date._

When he was finished dressing himself, it was 4:45pm. He figured he looked alright: red hoodie with white bands around the hood and cuffs over a long sleeved black Tee, skinny jeans which had been deliberately frayed to show some patches of skin, his black Converse and a tatty black-and-red chequered scarf around his neck. He'd used gel to style his hair into a spiky, punk design and almost forgot to put on his sport-shades before they left.

There was but one exchange of words between the brothers during the short drive, which consisted of Ludwig commenting on how _available_ Gilbert looked, and Gilbert retorting with a phrase that, when paraphrased, went something like: 'please be quiet or I shall acquaint your rear with my shoe'.

"You have your phone on you," Ludwig said as Gilbert climbed out of the car. "Call me when you need picking up."

"_Ja, Mutti_." Gilbert rolled his eyes as he waved him off.

The cinema was a rather grand one, lit up brightly with blue neon lights. Already it was getting dark as he waited for Mattie to show up.

It was another ten minutes before he caught sight of the petite Canadian, calmly walking towards him. He looked, to say the least, adorable. It had been a very cold and cloudy day, evidently shown by the huge thick brown fleece Mattie wore - it was so oversized the poloneck came up to his nose, and the sleeves were rolled up several times before his gloved hands were visible. Walking boots could be seen under the long baggy navy jeans and a scarf with maple leaves draped over Mattie's thin shoulders.

The bespectacled blonde looked up at him. "Hey," His soft voice greeted.

Gilbert was speechless. _He looks so much like a damn woman, he's so cute!_ "H-hey."

"Aren't you cold?" Mattie asked softly, smiling.

"Aren't you boiling? Come on, how many sheep were put into that sweater?" Mattie chuckled softly as they entered the cinema. "It's not that huge, and it was almost as cold as Canada today."

"Good thing I've been inside, then. How was work?"

Mattie put his hands into his pockets that looked bottomless. "I-it was alright. That guy from our art class turned up and we talked for a bit."

Gilbert paused. "Which guy?" Matthew's cheeks were tinted pink. "You know, the tall one who hangs around with Yao. His name's Ivan Braginski."

_That Russian with the purple eyes._ For some reason, the mentioning of him made Gilbert feel uneasy, especially knowing that Matthew had been talking to him. "What, Yao wasn't there too?"

"_Non_, he said Yao had to go back to China for a bit." They looked at surrounding adverts for the films being shown.

Mattie pointed out a poster advertising a very action-packed and aggressive film, to which Gilbert reacted with, "I thought you'd prefer to see something like _Frozen._"

"Don't be silly," Mattie laughed as they went to buy tickets. "I saw _Frozen_ ages ago."

_Of course you did_, Gilbert thought endearingly. Having bought tickets and snacks, the shy duo took their seats near the front if the cinema. A few taller people came in and sat in front of them, which greatly displeased the short blonde man. Smiling, the albino offered to switch seats so that he could see the large screen. "_M-merci,_" The Canadian muttered as he shuffled into Gilbert's seat.

The film began rather quietly, then exploded into violence and well-constructed fight scenes laced with gore- despite that this film was his choice, Mattie still cringed and avoided looking at the bloody scenes, favouring instead to watch Gilbert's face as he watched men brutally kill one another- and finally ended with the main protagonist getting the girl he loved in an exaggerated setting. During the film Gilbert had to remove his shades so that he could see, and noticed when Mattie looked at his eyes when he thought he was being discreet, not that he minded.

By the end of it they had quite enjoyed the film and stopped to take a bathroom break. As they strolled down the hall and out of the building into the dark car park, however, Gilbert spoke up. "Hey, wanna go for a walk?"

Mattie tilted his head. "Where? It's dark."

"So? It would just be a stroll; I feel like I haven't gotten out much." The younger man gave a cheeky smile, "What, you don't take random jogs around the park anymore?" Gilbert nudged him playfully. "Oi, I did say it was a snap choice. So, wanna walk?"

Mattie pulled his fleece tighter around him. "_Oui_, ok-"

"_Hey! Hey baby, wanna have some fun?_" The taunting remark was followed by a wolf whistle, clearly aimed at Matthew.

"Who said that," Muttered Gilbert as his ruby eyes turned back towards a trio of guys, whom he'd seen in the cinema room with them, now hanging around under a street light but a few metres away.

Their ringleader, a tall rough-looking shrug of a man, pulled his cigarette from between his yellow teeth, grinning. "Not you, skinny, your chick."

_My...chick?_ Gilbert looked down at Mattie, who was equally confused, with a questioning look. "I don't know them," The blonde muttered in response, and they tried to walk away.

The three gangsters were having none of it. The first one got within touching distance of them. "Why don't you let us have a go with her tonight, for a change?"

Gilbert looked frustratedly over his shoulder, stepping in behind Matthew. "Go away."

The man pulled a crooked smile, his buddies chuckling behind him as they walked. "Gee, I only want a _taste_, dude-" He reached out his hand to grab Mattie's shoulder, and spin him around in front of Gilbert.

"W-wait!" The man cried, the shocked looks of the other two matching the man's face. "Y-you-you're a guy!"

Mattie went bright red as he tried to scowl at them. "Leave us alone," He said as sternly as he could, Gilbert clenching his fists as the guys backed off a few paces.

"Haha, you wanted to fuck a dude, Craz," A second man leered, tapping 'Craz' on the shoulder. He retorted with a curse and shoving his friend away. "It's not me who wants to do him, " Craz gestured to Gilbert, his face illuminated by the yellow street lights around them. "It's him."

"Ok, we'll be going now," Matthew dismissed as he pulled on Gilbert's tense arm, trying to get him to move from his protective stance. "Gilbert, let's_ go_," He whispered harshly, finally getting the albino to move with him.

"What are you, two fuck buddies?" Craz called after them.

"Who the _fuck_ let's faggots into a cinema with normal people." The third groupie commented, loudly for both scarpering men to hear. Gilbert stopped dead. _I've had it with these jerks._

"At least I'm not the one behaving like a bunch of twats," He shouted over his shoulder. Craz and the others stopped laughing. "Say what, _bitch_?" Turning fully, Gilbert marched right back up to them, until he was face-to-face with Craz, looking into his dull eyes. "I said," He growled, "at least I'm not behaving like a bunch of_ twats._"

Craz snarled, but his attention was caught by something else. "You wearing contacts?" He asked gruffly.

Fear replaced the previous feeling of anger. _Shit, my shades! I forgot to put them on!_

"Yes." Craz peered closer, his eyes narrowing and his friends moving closer. Suddenly he recoiled. "Nah, those ain't contacts! You've got red eyes!"

"Bet he's higher than a plane," Muttered the second. "S'probably why he wants to act like a homo," The ever-antagonistic third guy added.

Craz looked disgusted. "I've been high," He whispered, "My eyes wasn't like that. Them your normal eyes, huh?" Gilbert was starting to shake, ever so slightly. _I have to get away from them. Now_. Silently he turned back to a worried Canadian, but Craz wasn't finished yet. "Holy shit!" He cried, slapping his buddies to encourage them, "He's not just gay, but an albino too!" More leering.

"Fucked-up red eyes, man, fucked _up._" Second guy.

"Gilbert, listen, ignore them, come on," Mattie's soothing Canadian accent.

"You sure he's just an albino? Looks a bit more..._demonic_, to me." Third. The men were still following them, still close.

Gilbert didn't know what to do- moreover, he didn't know whether he would lash out or fall to the floor and sob, but he wanted them to say _anything_ other than that. _Gott, please, stop it…._

Mattie felt Gilbert lean on him more, and put an arm around his waist. "Block them out, Gil. Block them-"

"_Demon!_" All three men yelled directly to the white-haired German, and he snapped.

_Tear rip shred wound maim break KILL!_ Aggressive words rolled around Gilbert's head like bowling balls as he pushed Mattie away and launched himself at Craz, his pale fist colliding with his cheekbone. "Fuck!" Craz shouted, stumbling back under the force of Gilbert's attack. "Gilbert, stop!" Cried Matthew as the other guys advanced.

A fist caught Gilbert's stomach; he dropped to his knees. Reacting quickly, he head-butted his attacker's crotch. _That is the closest I have ever been to another man's genitals, and it was not nice._

The guy whimpered as he, too, hit the floor, his hands cradling his crushed manhood.

Craz planted a thick boot into Gilbert's side, making him choke on his own spit. "Filthy fuckin' queer," _kick, kick_, "you should just die." Mattie had no time to react before he was seeing Gilbert being beaten before him. He saw the second guy preparing to punch him, and rushed in. His thin arms locked around the man's neck, squeezing, but it didn't hold: the guy's elbow rammed into his ribcage and Mattie stumbled away, pulling out his phone.

"Back off right now, or I'm calling the police!" He summoned as much volume as he could, barely stopping the conflict. Craz winced as he turned to him, Gilbert spluttering on the concrete below. "Really, you gonna do that, fag?"

"Watch me." his gloved fingers tapped in 911, but he didn't see the third guy charging him until he'd rugby-tackled him to the hard ground, his skull bouncing off the stone and his phone sent flying.

"N-no, Matt…" Gilbert wheezed as more punches and kicks were rained down on his fragile pain meant nothing now: not the cuts on his skin, not the blows, not the bootprints left on his chest, none of it. Uncurling onto his feet shakily, he faced the two men he'd been hit by.

His fist went into the first guy's throat. His right leg came up into a vicious roundhouse kick which met the chest of the other man, causing both to collapse.

The third guy and Mattie were rolling, wrestling, fighting for power.

"Woah!" He was tripped by Craz's upshot leg, and fell fast. "You little shit," Gilbert cursed as he straddled Craz, pounding right and left hooks to his face, shattering his nose. Blood sprayed onto his muddy clothes. While moving around, his Iphone had been dislodged from his pocket, only to end up under the boot of the second guy, who crushed it with ease.

Mattie realised that he'd rolled them close to the edge of the empty car park, where there was a line of trees. He held the offender at bay as his other hand searched for something, anything..._aha!_ Mattie pulled a thick branch from the undergrowth, and hit the man savagely over the head with it, freeing himself. Now up and on his feet, he kicked the guy for good measure and set upon the second thug, using the stick to choke him and try to pull him to the ground. The man broke the stick and flipped Mattie over his hip, grabbing his left arm and twisting it behind him painfully. Mattie let out a shrill scream.

"Fuck off! Let him -go!" Gilbert yelled protectively, as Craz spat, "Pathetic faggot, maybe we'll knock some sense into your boyfriend! You make me _sick_-ah!" He was silenced by Gilbert's solid left cross.

As soon as he'd knocked him out, Gilbert went straight for the only man left, holding Matthew down. Upon seeing Gilbert, he promptly pulled Mattie's head back by his hair and punched his eye socket, catching his nose and drawing a yelp from the terrified blonde.

Gilbert was scared too, he was so scared, but more than that, he wanted to stop this. He was running purely on adrenaline. Jumping behind the last guy he put him in a chokehold, tensing his biceps as much as he could, depriving the man from oxygen. He was unconscious within seconds. "M-Mattie, Matthew!" He called, scrambling over to him as he lay on the floor. Tucking an arm under his head, Gilbert sat him up gently. "What did they do? Wha…" Tears were streaming down the petite man's face, his golden wavy hair plastered to his face and neck by dirt and sweat. His glasses were broken and his nose was bleeding.

_Why….WHY did they hurt him? Why did they hurt us? W-what did we do? We didn't do anything!_ A raging voice screamed mercilessly inside his head, one which was lowered with a hiss.

"I'm….I-I'm….alright-"

"Don't fucking say that. Don't lie…" Gilbert pressed their foreheads together, fighting his own tears coming forth. Pain wracked both of their bodies as they cradled the other's shaking form in the darkness.

"D-did you call the police?" Asked Gilbert, his arms still holding Matthew. He shook his head. "_Non_, I….he broke my phone, I think," He gestured to the third unconscious man lying a distance away.

_Fuck. FUCK. Damn it!_ "Same happened to mine…" Gilbert muttered, sighing even though it hurt. _Gott it hurts to breathe._ He brushed a strand of hair from Mattie's eyes. "We'll have to walk, huh?"

"Y-yeah….Ah," Mattie winced as they both struggled to get up, constantly looking around them to see if the guys were awake. "M-my apartment is c-closer than the hospital; we c-can get a lift." Gilbert nodded, and they wrapped an arm around the other's waist to support them as Mattie led them home.

It was a strenuous journey. What took 10 minutes in a car took them 40 minutes because of their injuries, their fatigue, the lack of daylight. The time was midnight by the time they knocked on the door to Mattie's apartment, only to both collapse after a mortified Francis answered the door.

* * *

The wounded pair were taken straight to hospital, where the doctors immediately treated their injuries as best they could and left them in their hospital beds to rest. Francis and Arthur, having no idea what could've happened, stayed awake all night to watch over them. It was 4am before Francis finally gave in and called Ludwig to tell him (He'd been battling the decision ever since they'd found them) and the blonde arrived spectacularly quickly after picking up.

"Why didn't he call me," He growled, angry that he hadn't been able to help his brother. Or protect Matthew.

"I don't know...they didn't have their phones on them, maybe they couldn't call." Francis whispered, an arm around Arthur as they watched both males sleep fitfully.

"God, I hope they'll be ok," The British man prayed as his lover planted a kiss to his forehead. Ludwig's thoughts were much the same, _Bruder, please be alright._

* * *

Translations: (There are so few!)

_Kleider. _- Clothes.

_Ja, Mutti_. _- _Yes, _mum_.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello...is it me you're looking for? I bring with me chapter 8, loves.

* * *

White eyelashes parted as Gilbert's eyelids fluttered open slowly. He was blinded by bright white light, and it didn't take him long to figure out where he was. _Hospital, I'm in hospital._ He realised that he was wearing a hospital gown, and the cuts on his legs had been treated and bandaged.

_Crap, the doctors saw. Hope they didn't tell Ludwig._ His arms too, up to the elbow, were wrapped in white cloth.

Panic flooded through him; he sat up straight, looking around for - _Mattie._ He was fast asleep in the hospital bed next to his, the curtain partially drawn. Seated next to Mattie's bed, clutching one of his hands, was Arthur. His bright green eyes flicked over to the albino. "Oh, thank heavens," He breathed, standing. "You're awake. H-hang on, I'll get Ludwig."

Once he left, Gilbert tried to sit up, but there was a throbbing headache and a wave of dizziness, so he lay down again, watching Matthew's sleeping form as if he were a guard dog.

Thundering footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, and Ludwig stepped quickly into Gilbert's ward. "_Bruder!_ Are you ok?" His deep voice sounded so concerned, Gilbert hoped he hadn't put him through too much stress. "Ludwig, I'm alright."

Ludwig bowed his head as he sat next to the bed, putting a hand onto Gilbert's arm -which, he noticed, had been redressed because of the wounds- and let out a sigh. Then, the inevitable questions came. "What happened to you?"

"We...we were beaten up, by a group of homophobes." As blue eyes widened, Francis and Arthur had entered the room also.

_Homophobics?_ Thought Ludwig, _But Gilbert's n….oh, right. Matthew._ "Where did they get you?"

Wheezing, the albino replied, "O-outside the cinema, in the car park. B-but, I...I started the fight. I got Mattie dragged into this, I'm sorry," earnest red eyes looked at the couple before his bed.

"What do you mean?" Asked Arthur, brow furrowed.

"Well, the guys were mouthing off and stuff, but I was the one who...who hit first." A look of understanding passed between the three adults.

"What set you off." Ludwig's hand tightened. Gilbert sagged. "They thought Mattie was a girl, and went after him. Found out he was a guy and called us faggots," Both Francis and Arthur flinched at the last word, "then the ringleader, he-" Gilbert looked at Ludwig, "-saw my eyes."

Ludwig nodded slowly. _Oh. So that's what happened._

"So, were they attacking Matthew, too?" Another question from the Brit. Gilbert shook his head. "_Nein,_ only after he tried to help me."

Francis folded his arms. "Then you didn't drag him into this, exactly: he knew what he was going to do and he did it."

"We should call the police," Stated the muscular German.

"Why? They won't be able to do anything." Gilbert's tone was dismissive, but Ludwig kept on. "That may be so but they'll need to know what happened. Those guys...it wasn't just a playfight."

_Damn fucking right. If I could take them all on again I would, and I'd be sure to kill them before...before Mattie got hurt… _Gilbert forced himself to sit up properly, crying out at the burst of pain from his chest. "_Bruder,_ don't-" Began his younger brother.

Strained against the railing Gilbert continued. "H-has Mattie woken up yet? What did they do to him?"

Francis looked mournful. "_Non,_ he hasn't awoken yet. We don't know about his injuries either-" Just then, a short nurse trotted in, clutching her clipboard tightly to her chest. She said in a whisper, "Mister Gilbert Beilschmidt, is it?" Gilbert nodded.

"We have your report. It appears you have a couple of cracked ribs, but no other serious injuries." Gilbert let out a breath. _That explains why breathing hurts._ The nurse added, "It is advised that for the next three months you do not participate in too much exercise or operating heavy machinery, and you will need to rest and relax until your ribs are completely healed. Feel free to take any painkillers needed and seek more medical advice if the pain gets worse or other symptoms arise. Now," She faced Francis and Arthur. "You are the parents of Mister Matthew Williams, yes?"

Nods. "We've checked him for serious injuries and we haven't found anything other than a few bruises and pulled muscles. I would recommend the same advice for him, nothing too stressful mentally or physically. We gave him a sedative just in case he's shaken up, alright?"

"Did you do that to me, too?" Gilbert asked, and received a firm nod. Making her excused, the nurse left abruptly. _Well, at least I know he's not badly hurt,_ Gilbert thought as his gaze once again settled on the sleeping Canadian.

Matthew woke up an hour later, to be surrounded by his fretting parents and worried friend. The police arrived soon after, the officers taking down the men's details, what exactly happened and where, and recording what the gang members looked like. After the officers left Gilbert commented, "They could still be unconscious in the car park."

"_Nein,_" Said Ludwig, "I drove there before I got a call from Francis; the car park was empty."

Mattie hadn't said anything since the police had gone. He sat huddled in the sheets of his hospital bed, his hands linking his arms around his knees.

Ludwig, Arthur and Francis left them to get some more rest.

"Mattie? You awake?" Said Canadian rolled over to face him, and Gilbert was still shocked at how swollen his face was after being hit. "_O-oui._" His voice was so quiet, so shaky...Matthew's eyes began to water.

_No, no don't cry, Mattie, bitte…_ Grunting with the effort, Gilbert pushed himself out of bed, gripping the curtain railing for support.

Mattie mumbled, "Gilbert y-you should stay in b-bed, your ribs…"

"Move over." Reluctantly, he did, and Gilbert lowered himself down next to him on his bed, the pain coursing up his body and just managing to hide the bandaging on his thighs. "A-ah, I think they should've given me more morphine," He joked.

Mattie used a bare forearm to wipe his nose. "S-sorry, I'm all snotty," He tried to manage a smile but it didn't hold.

"I don't mind, everyone has snotty moments." He looked down at the smaller man, who was growing so shaky. "Matt, come here."

"No, you're badly hurt, and-" Before he could say anything more Gilbert put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Sighing, secretly grateful, Matthew rested his head on Gilbert's shoulder, his messy blonde hair falling around his face.

They rested quietly for a while.

"Gilbert, why don't you seem...shaken up?"

The German thought about it. "...Because I'm used to being beaten up." He said finally.

"T-that's horrible," Mattie whispered, balling his fist and putting it over his mouth. "Especially for….someone like you."

Gilbert frowned. "What do you mean?"

"W-well, you're a really nice person, and….I can't see why anyone would feel the need to hit you." That made the albino smile. Despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, he still felt happy to have Matthew at his side. The blonde man began to sniffle again, and Gilbert said softly, "It's alright. They won't ever touch you again." Small smiles were exchanged.

"G-Gilbert, can I….ask you something?"

"_Sicher,_ shoot." Mattie looked away, twiddling his thumbs. "Um…would you...maybe….stay w-with me, for a bit? You could come b-back to mine."

White eyebrows rose. "Like, to stay over? It's your parents apartment….would they mind?" H_e's so nervous, it's almost like he's in shock. Then again, he's probably never been hit before._

"W-well, it was actually their suggestion, when they saw how….You don't have to, I'll understand if you feel like you want to go home."

Gilbert looked at him, blinked once. Mattie's confidence crumbled. "N-nevermind, just forget I said anything-"  
"I'd like to." A head of golden hair turned back to face him. "R-really?"

_Anything to make you feel better._ "_Ja._"

* * *

"A sleepover?" Ludwig echoed as he handed Gilbert his day clothes and pyjamas he'd brought him last night.

"Well, not a sleepover exactly...It was suggested by Francis and Arthur, and Matthew wants me with him…"

"Why?" The blonde's huge frame was situated on a chair next to Gilbert's hospital bed. Aforementioned albino scowled at the question. "Because, he's just had the shit beaten out of him, and he's not even used to being noticed! I can completely understand why he wouldn't want to be alone-"

"Alright, _beruhige dich._ But he does have his parents with him-"

"Lud, do you remember when we were little?" Blue eyes averted to the floor. "Don't…"

Gilbert continued nonetheless, "When _Vater_ tried to hit you, and I always stopped him? I don't regret doing that, never will. But who did you want to be with after his attacks?"

Sun-kissed hands clenched. "...You."

"_Ja,_ because I went through it with you. So...can you see, now? About Mattie?" Ludwig nodded his head, his styled hair shining. "It's strange when you act the age you are." That got a smirk from his older sibling. "Don't worry I won't act like this for long."

_Just until Mattie's feeling better, I guess. _

* * *

Bags and boots rested on the floor of Francis's and Arthur's apartment.

"Shall I make you boys some tea?" Arthur was already making his way to the kitchen as Francis left to go and set up an air mattress. "_Ja, bitte,_ Mr Bonnefoy." Gilbert replied, getting Mattie let out a giggle.

"You are sorely mistaken if you think I took _his_ last name," The Brit stated proudly as they waited for the kettle to boil. "I kept my own. But please just call me Arthur."

Each man holding a steaming mug between their hands; Gilbert and Matthew sat on the sofa. Seeing as he didn't get a good look around the first time he'd come here, Gilbert noticed the finer details of the living room: a small flatscreen TV, cabinets full of ornaments, nice furniture, and a few photos hanging on the walls. One imparticular caught his attention: a school photo taken of Mattie and another boy next to him, who had shorter hair with a cowlick, and looked exactly like the blonde Canadian.

"Is that your brother?" He gestured to the painting. Matthew nodded, sipping his tea. "Yeah, that's Alfred."

"He looks just like you." In response to this comment the petite blonde shook his head. _"Non_, he's older than me so, technically, I look like _him_."

Gilbert tried to give a skeptical glance, and stuck his tongue out. _Smartass._

And so the silence descended again, neither bothering to continue the conversation. _What the hell can I say to make him feel better,_ Gilbert thought as his brain savagely attempted to think of cheerful things to say.

_Cheer up, at least they didn't kill us! ...Nein, too dramatic._

_You looked pretty fucking badass out there! ….Too overwhelming._

_Tell me what I can do to make you feel better. ...Too flirty! Verdammt, brain, I'm done with you._

"W-wanna watch some TV?" Mattie's tone was soft, still jittery.

Gilbert sat forward a bit, gripping the tea mug. "_Ja, ja_ sure." After scrolling through endless channels, they ended up watching some flog-it business show, neither of them paying attention.

"Mattie, how are you feeling now?" _Tell me the code word._ Violet eyes, uncertain and chilled, met his. "I-I'm...fine." _That's it. That's all I need to know._ Internally, the albino sighed._ So he's still pretty shaken up._

* * *

Francis strolled into the kitchen, shutting the door so the younger men wouldn't hear. "I've set up the mattress," He stated, "but I don't know where to put it."

Arthur, leaning against the sink, set his mug down. "Why not just put it in Matthew's room?" Francis tongued his cheek nervously. Arthur tilted his head, exasperated. "Oh, you don't really think that they're going to do anything, do you?"

_"Je ne sais pas,_" The Frenchman muttered, long arms folded against his lean body. "_Matthieu's_ just been through a traumatic experience, I doubt he wants another so soon."

The blonde Brit fought a chuckle. "That was terrible." His lover flashed a smirk. "Look, love, if you think it's better to have him sleep somewhere else then we can put him in the living room." Arthur amended, putting the empty mug into the sink. Francis's arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and his long silvery hair spilled over Arthur's left shoulder as he pressed back into him.

"_J'espère qu'il s'en remettra,_" Whispered Francis. "I hope _Matthieu_ will recover."

"He will. He's got all of us to help him, and Gilbert knows what they went through, even if he did say he started it."

"I cannot blame him," Francis pulled away to look into those jaded orbs. "I may have done the same thing, if they were saying those _horrible_ things about him _et Matthieu_."

"Mm," Arthur pouted, "Hang on, I thought Gilbert was straight? If he is why are you worried anything will happen?"

"Because have you _seen_ how cute our son is? He's adorable!"

"Stop saying that, dear, it's creepy."

* * *

Eventually it was decided that Gilbert would be allowed to sleep in Matthew's room. Gilbert, having had no participation in this decision, simply accepted it.

Much of the day passed quietly and calmly; by the evening everyone was grateful for the darkness, and the reason not to talk much.

It was getting late, and Mattie had gone into the bathroom to change while Gilbert used his room. However, as soon as he was changed he turned and he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Aside from the scrapes he'd suffered, the black eye was the worst thing: the imprints of knuckles circled the socket, and the flesh around his left eye was covered in shades ranging from purple to blue to yellow. He really didn't like the fact that part of his face was the same colour as his irises. Tears welled and were running down his cheeks before he could comprehend it. It wasn't because he had been beaten up necessarily, it was because he didn't understand why.

Mattie closed his eyes. Upon opening them again, he saw Francis's tall reflection in the mirror, and turned slowly.

"Papa…" He didn't care that he was 20 years old, or that he was a guy, he was hurting and he wanted his daddy. Sobs breaking through the silence, he huddled into his father's opened arms.

Francis wrapped his arms around Mattie's body, covered in his two-piece baby blue pyjamas. "Shhh, it's alright, _cher_," He cooed, swaying gently like he used to when Mattie was a baby.

"I-I don't get it," Mattie whispered into his chest. "I didn't do anything. I just told them to leave us alone. D-do they hate me because I'm gay?" Wide violet eyes met pale blue, and Francis licked his lips. "...There are some people in this world who are, very stupid. Like homophobic people. They're not going to accept homosexuals, so they attack them."

"B-but 'phobia' means fear. They didn't look scared, they were angry." Images and memories of the scuffle ran through his mind as he spoke.

"_Oui,_ it does, but that's the trick. Anger is a mask of fear, it almost always is. They were scared because they couldn't accept it, so they tried to put you down." Matthew's brow creased. "They called Gilbert names, too, but he didn't fight back until they…"

"Until they what?" Francis tilted his head.

Soft hands clenched. "Until they called him a demon." _No wonder he snapped_, thought the Frenchman, remembering how upset Gilbert had been talking about his past and the bullies who'd called him just that. "That's disgusting behaviour," Francis's tone was firm. "I think they deserved what you gave them, _Matthieu._" Mattie smiled a little, "It was mostly Gilbert, I just tried to help him. I-I know I should've called the police right away, but I was stunned and then they-"  
"Shh, I understand. Maybe your ice-hockey self wanted to see some violence, eh?" His father winked and it earned a small chuckle. Francis used a slender digit to wipe away his tears. "Dry your eyes, sweetheart. Go get some sleep." Nodding, Mattie sniffed and began to walk away.

Just to be a tease, Francis called, "When I say sleep I mean _sleep,_ though."  
"_Papa!_"

* * *

Gilbert was sat still on the air mattress, dressed in his usual long-sleeved black Tee and jogging bottoms, barefoot, when Mattie came in.

_Holy shit, he looks adorable. Are those baby blue PJs? ….Ja, ja, sie sind._

"...bert….Gilbert?" He blinked. "_Was?_"

Mattie lowered himself onto his bed. "You alright? Your eyes were glazed over."

"U-uhm, _ja,_ I'm fine. What about you?"

"F-feeling a little better that you're here." A blush adorned both of their faces. "I-I mean-"

"_Nein,_ that's good." Gilbert offered a soft smile.

Mattie pulled the covers over himself. "Y-you ok if I turn out the light?" A sudden panic went through Gilbert's being, as he thought about his hallucination. _Could that happen again? I wouldn't want to put Mattie in danger._ Even so, he replied with, "_Ja,_ it's fine." _I'll just have to hope it doesn't happen tonight._

They lay there in his room, breathing softly, when Matthew's quiet Canadian voice rattled into the darkness. "Hey, you awake?"

"Am now." Was something wrong, was he alright?

"_Désolé,_" Came the reply, "I was just wondering."_ I wonder if I'll get any sleep_, Gilbert thought in a moment of sleep-deprived bitterness. However, questions started to flood his mind. "Oi, Mattie?"

"_Oui?_"

"...The other day, with those guys…" He began softly, "how come you didn't react to the names they called you?" _Wish I could be that calm around idiots like that._

A rustling was heard as the smaller man sat up in bed. "Oh...I guess I get used to the names, so I ignore them."

Gilbert, too sat up. "Really. You don't mind people calling you a…." No. He wouldn't repeat it again. But Matthew did. "A faggot?"

"..._Ja._"

The blonde cleared his throat. "Well, I...I'm not used to people noticing me, so I always expected people to not care that I'm gay. B-but, every so often someone sees me, and they find out, and I…" He sighed. "Sometimes I'm just grateful for the attention." That shocked the albino; his eyes widened in the dark. "Mattie, there are better kinds of attention to have than idiots mobbing you," Gilbert stated. "I wouldn't let anyone call me that, if I was gay. You have to start standing up for yourself-"

"But I've never needed to," Interrupted Matthew, "everyone ignores me or forgets me. What's it matter if a few homophobes stop and jeer for a minute? They're not all like those guys at the cinema, it's best just to ignore them."

"You can't let them ridicule you for who you are," Gilbert growled. "I stood up for myself when they...called me a…..But, you also need to be proud of yourself. Take them down a peg." Mattie's voice was also stern now. "There's no point in taking them down a peg, they'll never learn. It's a waste of my time and energy." Footsteps sounded walking past the door.

Voices now turned into whispered shouts. " So it's a waste of energy trying to be strong?"

"It's a waste of energy trying to be strong all the time!" Matthew sighed, calming down. "No one is perfect. Homophobes are just pathetic, scared people who aren't worth my time. That's all I'm saying, Gil."

The albino's arms were unfolded slowly. "...I know. I guess I'm just an aggressive person."

"You're not aggressive, just defensive." Red eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're always expecting someone to criticise you or hurt you, so you try to be hostile."

_Ouch._ "Do I really do that?"

Mattie's reply was hesitant. "...Yes?"

"Are you asking me or telling me." Another pause. "...Telling you?"

Gilbert chuckled, even though the action made his ribs hurt."You're cute. Sorry for arguing, I didn't mean to stress you out."

Silence for a few minutes. Then, "I'm not a complete wimp, you know." Mattie's voice was resigned, calm. "I did used to be on an ice-hockey team. I can still remember getting pretty beaten up on the ice, but it was fun. It was just a game. I only….I only seemed shaken up because t-those guys took me by surprise when they hit back."

Gilbert smiled. "Yeah. Glad I managed to cave a few faces in. I can't believe they thought you were a girl."

Mattie bit his lip. "Do I really look that girly?" _Well, you do have Francis's hairstyle._ "Uh…_Nein_."

"You hesitated."

"I didn't." More rustling as Mattie moved around. "You did."

"I didn't mean to! It's just...nevermind."

"What? Do I look like a girl?" Queried the blonde, almost as a warning to Gilbert. Treading on thin ice here. "You , uh, well you have long hair, so….stereotypically if you were wearing baggy clothes…."  
"So I do look like a girl." _He's angry, he's getting pissed at me._ Gilbert moved back into the mattress in the dark room. "N-no, but you do have a, sort of….feminine face." There. He'd said it. Now he just prayed his death by hockey stick would be quick and painless.

But nothing hit him around the face; instead, Mattie turned on the little desk lamp again, sitting cross-legged on the bed. His eyes met Gilbert's. "How is my face feminine?"

"I- uhm...Can't see your face very well from here." Mattie hopped off his own bed and onto the air mattress, getting it to bounce as he sat close to the albino. His blue PJs were ruffled and his hair hung loosely around his shoulders. He repeated his question.

Gilbert tried not to meet his gaze. "Maybe it's just the glasses, I mean, you don't look feminine now." _Did I save it?_ Mattie sat back on his heels. "I don't?"

_Goddamn it why do you sound disappointed make your mind up!_

"W-well, perhaps...your face is sort of round, and...your lips are sort of girly." _WHAT ARE YOU SAYING GILBERT, YOU CREEP._ He cringed internally. Matthew pouted, touching his face with his fingertips. "Uhm...ok. I know the black eye must make my eyes look bad now though-"

"No they don't." That made the Canadian stop, and look up to the white-haired German, who smiled at him. "It's a bit weird to see you without glasses, but your eyes look fine." Gilbert's tone had gone into a hush again, and even though he could feel himself drifting towards Mattie's face he didn't stop. Mattie looked genuinely flattered by the comment, and gave a return smile, his cheeks tinged pink.

Gilbert whispered, "I like your eyes, too, Mattie." Their faces drew closer together, Matthew unsure of whether he wanted to close his eyes, neither knowing how long until their lips would meet-

"Ah!" Gilbert pulled away, the sharp stab of pain from his ribs sending shocks along his spine.

"A-are you ok?" Matthew's concerned face was still coloured red, as he tucked his hair behind his ears.

"_J-ja_, just a bit sore," He managed through gritted teeth. He wasn't sure what to say now as the tension rose between them. _I...almost kissed him. I almost kissed Mattie! _

Both unwilling to make additional conversation, Mattie returned to his bed and lay with his back to his friend, his friend who had just been about to act on the thought of kissing him. Silently cursing his impulsive actions, the white-haired man also turned his back to Matthew and drifted slowly into a light sleep.

The room was unbearably dark and shadows seemed to move in the peripheral field of Gilbert's vision. Sitting up, bracing himself in his palms, the albino's eyes scanned the nothingness before him, wondering if it was going to happen again. Surely enough, perched in the corner of Mattie's room, next to the wardrobe, sat the black feline. He watched with wide eyes as it's headlight-pupils lit up it's surroundings as its pink tongue rasped along its upturned paw, watching him. It was cleaning blood from the claws.

A blood-boiling anger flowed into Gilbert's veins and he snarled, his eyes darting to Mattie's sleeping form. His chest puffed out protectively. "_Nein_," He whispered harshly. "Not tonight. I have someone to protect tonight."

With a hiss of resentment, the cat stood and slinked back into the shadows of both the room and his mind.

* * *

I don't even like cats myself. They are so arrogant. Anyway, thank you all for your charming reviews! Especially the corrections on the French *blush* It's almost like I didn't learn it for 3 years...

Translations:

_Sicher_ - Sure

_Je ne sais pas _- I don't know

_J'espère qu'il s'en remettra _- I hope he will recover

_Ja, ja, sie sind. _- Yes, yes they are.

_Désolé _- I'm sorry


	9. Chapter 9

I was going to update yesterday and be all HAPPY EASTER but this isn't a very happy chappy so it might've been a buzzkill. *Clears throat* uhm, that is, woo chapter 9!

* * *

The next day proved to be a rather awkward affair between the Canadian and the German, for example, the embarrassed glances the pair shared at breakfast.

However, now that Matthew had officially stabilized, and calmed down, Gilbert made his excuses and had been collected by Ludwig before lunch.

It was a miserable, rainy day; the humidity hung thickly in the air and put pressure on Gilbert's skull, giving him a thundering headache. His cracked ribs were throbbing and even taking deep breaths was painful - this meant that Gilbert often only took shallow breaths, which made him feel faint. He was so drained, so mentally exhausted and physically strained, that he headed straight to his room once he'd arrived back home, collapsing on his bed.

"_Bruder,_" Ludwig whispered before he could go to sleep. "_Was._"

"I talked to Francis, and we've managed to get a referral for you, but the earliest appointment is on _Montag,_ at 11am. Is that alright?"

"Provided I can sleep between now _und_ then, _ja._ Who's the new therapist?"

"Uh...Doctor Kiku Honda, I think he said." _Kiku?_ Thought Gilbert, frowning._ Sounds like an interesting person already._ "Ok, now _lass mich schlafen._" With a nod his taller brother left.

Gilbert's eyes, half-closed, wandered to the window as his face and body rested on the bed covers. He watched the rain pour down outside for goodness knows how long, picking out two raindrops at random and supervising their race down the glass, feeling a small amount of victory for the winner. He didn't know if he was awake, or dreaming, or even alive. He could see the outside world, and that was all he knew for the rest of that day.

The next time Gilbert's brain engaged he let out a long breath, sudden pain sparking in his ribcage. The clock read 21:05. _Damn, I've been asleep for that long?_ However, he recognised the feeling of soreness in his eyes, almost the same as when he'd worn his contacts for too long.

_My eyes are dry. I haven't been asleep, but...I haven't been awake either._ His vision went blurry as a wave of dizziness overcame him. If felt like he had no bearing, no mass. The raindrops were still falling onto the window and they twinkled in the street lights like stars.

The more he tried to focus his vision, he more those raindrops melted together, swirling, pulling him into the navy blue sky blocked only by a glass pane.

_Meow._ Gilbert was still sleepy, and bordering on REM* sleep, but his ears picked up that dreaded sound easily enough.

_Not happy that I managed to fend you off last night, huh, kitty? I knew you would make sure I paid for that. Fucking bring it, you pathetic furr-filled sack of-_HISS! A sleek black paw slid from apparent thin air, to become mortal within the tense atmosphere of his room. Gilbert wanted to turn his head, to watch the beast as it slinked towards him. But he couldn't.

The dizziness wore off. Red eyes focused. Muscles tensed. Gilbert realised that he could not move his body.

An incredible feeling of inertia hit him: it felt like his blood had turned to concrete and was weighing him down from the inside. He couldn't blink, or yell, or even take a breath. The silence of his internal screams scared him just as much as this unknown paralysis.

_I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't breathe! Hilf mir! Jemand, bitte, hilf mir!_

The corner of his bed dipped as the black cat stepped lightly upon the sheets, and Gilbert's watering eyes swivelled in their sockets to see. Much to his horror, he noticed that it had grown in size. Since he'd seen it last night, it had enlarged to the size of a lynx, it's bold blue eyes looming over him.

Gilbert felt his lungs burning, he couldn't speak either, but he could glare holes through this apparition strolling calmly across his chest, its unsheathed brown claws pinpricking the skin beneath fabric.

_Glaring will do you no good, Gilbert. This is no time to act childish._ That voice. It was Ludwig's. However, it was like the voice was coming from the cat, only it's mouth didn't open when it spoke.

Still struggling silently against the unknown weight, Gilbert shouted back with his own thoughts: _How dare you use my brother's voice to taunt me! Vile creature, I'll kill you!_ The lynx-like feline bared it's long canines and let out a growl low enough to shake Gilbert's intestines.

He needed to get away. He wanted to breathe, the fire in his lungs was threatening to consume him and he would NOT be left unconscious with that malicious thing perched on his unmoving body! Looking to the ceiling, Gilbert felt something: a floating sensation, similar to that one feels when on a roller coaster, flying, drifting…

His arms lifted, and his legs. Gilbert's hair began to wave and flow as if he was underwater, as did his clothes. He gulped in air, wondering what was going on; suddenly he saw he was centimetres away from the ceiling and-

_Wait. What the fuck is happening to me?!_ He looked over his shoulder, down onto his bed.

The bed, on which his body still lay.

Gilbert felt panic rise in him again, squeezing his throat, binding his thoughts, making him want to throw up. He was floating. And looking down at his own body….Looking down at the lynx, still sat on his body. The body's eyes were closed, and it's chest was rising and falling, yet the breaths were out of sync from those the awake Gilbert was taking.

_This can't be real, this isn't real. Another hallucination. Another…._ He watched as the cat placed both forepaws on each of his shoulders, hissing at the form.

He tried shouting at it, but he couldn't move very far and the cat could not hear. Instead, it dug its claws deep into his collarbone, pulling downwards, tearing his shirt and flesh, the black fabric stained darker by red.

_Nein! Halt!_ Gilbert screamed, as he felt a pulling sensation, like this ghostly form of himself was being dragged, as if by those claws, back into his corpse, back into the mutilation-

His real body bucked with the return of his consciousness, barely having time to comprehend the blood pouring onto his chest and stomach, the lynx making one final slash downwards to his abdomen before hissing and leaping to safety. Standing up, unsteady and heavily bleeding, Gilbert staggered to turn on a lamp, then opened his wardrobe door, staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror. The cat had cut a 'Y' incision from his shoulders down his stomach...just like they do to prepare bodies for embalming.

The albino slapped a hand over his mouth, wanting to scream. _It's real! It's…._ He put his other hand onto the cut; the flesh was frayed, the blood pouring over his hand warm and wet.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. _Nein, this looks real. It appears real and terrible and painful but-_ He tried to push his hand through the cut, inside his own torso cavity- _in reality, this is just a hallucination, isn't it, kitty._ His hand hit his thin body, where there was no longer a great big gash nor any blood in sight.

It had turned out to be a pretty strange night for Gilbert Beilschmidt.

* * *

A month passed. A month in which both men recovered from the little fight they'd been involved in, even managing to get new phones out of it. Matthew and Gilbert texted and talked on Facebook, with art as their main choice of conversation topic.

Gilbert had started taking sleeping pills again; they worked a treat, fending off the miscreant feline with the only side-effect being the fact that the pills made him drowsy in the day, too. Matthew learned to cope with Gilbert's tiredness, and they supported each other in times of hardship and happiness alike. Not that there was an overwhelming amount of the latter. They had been to a couple more of the art classes, each time seeming to draw to themselves more attention from one Mister Braginski, who had a passion for painting sunflowers.

The therapy, Gilbert found, was also helping. Doctor Honda was an incredibly serious and intense man, though small in stature. Instead of initiating conversations, he simply waited until Gilbert decided to talk about his problems. After all, this was paid time the German couldn't afford to waste, so why not let it all out?

His father, his healing ribs, his lack of a job or life in general - all of these topics and more were discussed, with Honda suggesting solutions to each.

Gilbert had been advised to rest until his ribs were better, polish off his CV, and prepare to find a job when he was better. He'd replied with, 'But I have no clue what job I'd like to do, the last job I had was a paper round at age 16.' Honda had pondered and suggested he write down what his talents were, to give them a head start.

This, a whole week later, was what he was doing now.

_What am I good at,_ the albino thought seriously, tapping the pen against his teeth. _What could I do for a living._

The pen shakily stroked paper, his messy handwriting scrawling the words, _Could probably learn how to use a till. So shopwork._

And again. _I like singing but Ludwig says it sounds like cats fighting to get out of a bag. I think he's jealous._ He firmly told himself to focus, despite his internal agreement that Ludwig was totally in envy of his singing talent. _I'm good at lying, so maybe a Member of Parliament job would be perfect._ His hand hesitated as the last useful idea came to his head._ ...I can draw._ _Technically. Sometimes._

_That's it, I'm leaving this list for now. It's making me sad._ Getting up, he winced as the sliced skin on his thighs caught the fabric of his trousers. _I have to stop moving too quick._

Naturally, as it was his coping method, the cutting had continued. However, due to the pills he sometimes didn't have the energy, so his legs actually healed a fair amount. But last night the pills had taken a while to work and...he'd...already found a blade.

Everyone else thought he was recovering remarkably well, especially Ludwig. The blonde German was shocked to see Gilbert wearing short sleeves for the first time in seven years - it was true the scars were plainly obvious on Gilbert's pale skin, but he only wore that shirt inside the apartment. If he was honest, Gilbert admitted he liked being able to show his arms again, if only in front of his brother.

Gilbert wasn't ready to show Mattie yet. Sure, the Canadian knew about his 'former' self-harming, but they spoke very little about it. And that was fine, because right now there was no reason to.

Right now, as he felt his heart pump blood fiercely around his body, Gilbert was content with life again.

_I forgot what the feeling felt like. Being able to look at your life and smile about it, be glad that you have it. Things are improving, and...It's like a dream._

Crisps were opened; a Cola can was popped; Gilbert checked his Facebook to see a new message from Matthew.

**Hey, how are you?** It had only been sent seconds ago, so he typed back fast. **Hallo :) I'm gut, danke. Und du?**

He'd only had the chance to teach Mattie bits of German, courtesy of his habit of returning to his mother tongue when he was comfortable with someone, but he picked it up fast.

**Alles ist gut mit mir, auch. Uh...was that right?**

Gilbert chuckled softly. **Ja, das war richtig. Wanna come over later? I have this new Xbox game~**

He was always nervous when it came to inviting him over, or when Mattie invited him over, because every time he looked into those eyes he saw the night they almost kissed, and it made him feel uncomfortable. Regardless, he wanted to spend time with the petite blonde, who replied with, **Oui, sure. About 6?** Red eyes glanced at the time: 6pm was four hours away. **Mm, 4pm** He joked.

**Non, I have work! ...5:55pm.**

Fingers typed fast. **Nein, 5:30pm.** He could practically hear Matthew's playful sigh of exasperation, and see his look of defiance as his reply came. **...5:45 and I'm not changing it :P**

**Haha, done. See ya!**

Gilbert knew not to panic. He knew. Ludwig had left for work, he had his own keys, and their apartment was fairly tidy.

Oh. OH. Was that an empty crisp packet on the floor, centimetres from the bin? And were those crumbs on the kitchen island? Why were his boxers thrown over the back of a chair? Cursing himself for being a lazy bastard, Gilbert pulled out a wet cloth, rubber gloves, cleaning spray and got to work.

Mattie knocked on the door at 5:46. Not that Gilbert had noticed; he'd still been busy cleaning. Opening the door he let the twitchy Canadian in, hiding his gloves and cloth behind his back. "Hi," Gilbert greeted with an embarrassed grin, ashamed to have been caught doing what he perceived to be his brother's job.

"W-were you...cleaning?"

"There is no need to look so shocked."

Mattie hesitated. "But you were _cleaning_." Hitting him playfully on the shoulder, the albino placed the cleaning things under the sink, and gestured to the sofa situated before the TV. "I was just as shocked to know you played video games," He stated bluntly.

"Well, yeah, of course I like them. They're violent." The cute smile offered with this somewhat surprising comment gave Matthew a _Chuckie_-like aura which quite frankly scared Gilbert. Nevertheless, they seated themselves on the sofa, each holding a controller as the game started. It was something of a futuristic sort, all about aliens and space ships and big-ass Weapons of Mass Destruction.

Gilbert's character also got to run around shooting things with a bazooka, so that made him happy. Mattie's character, decidedly the sidekick, followed him up on missions and took out anyone he'd missed with a crossbow.

Both of them ignored facts like there was no gravity in space, so technically they shouldn't be able to shoot anything.

For the fifth time in this new mission, Gilbert's character was killed, this time decapitated by a rough-looking alien. "Damn stupid frickin' broken game!" He spat, infuriated that he couldn't even get past the second checkpoint to save the game and he'd been so _goddamn close-_

"Calm down, it's just a game-" Mattie began, only to stop when his own character was killed by the same creature. A look of dark anger swept over his face. Gilbert let out a laugh, "True, but it's a game I really want to complete."

_That is the most angry I've ever seen him, haha! Guess we do have a lot of similarities._

Getting up, setting his controller aside the white-haired German asked, "You want a drink or something? I'm having a Coke."

"O-oh, I'll have the same, please." Mattie's face was creased in concentration, trying to figure out how to kill the obstructing alien, in the most violent way possible.

This consisted of attacking it with a hunting knife, gutting it on the spot. Mattie was incredibly proud of his achievement, and when Gilbert came in he commented, "Holy shit you killed it? How?"

"He has a blind spot. I found it." Mattie's cheeks were tinged with pink, though from frustration or determination it wasn't clear.

Gilbert, without thinking, leaned backwards over the sofa, so his head rested on the cushions beside Mattie's hip. "Ooh, it looks cooler upside down." He handed Mattie a can of Coke.

"What are you doing?" Queried the smaller blonde.

"I have no idea." Suddenly his spine made a cracking sound, and he took a sharp breath which aggravated his ribs. "AH, that hurts!" Mattie jumped up, moving around the sofa, trying not to roll his eyes. "That's what you get for-"Mattie's hands grabbed Gilbert's arms to pull him upright, "-being so weird."

"I'm not- ow!" The force of Matthew's pull was more powerful than he'd expected; Gilbert tumbled forward with the momentum and Mattie fell onto the table behind the sofa, his back pressed against the polished wood and Gilbert's body millimetres from his, the pale man's hands either side of his head. "_D-danke_," He muttered, Mattie's wide eyes staring into his. Gilbert noticed something. "You wearing new glasses?"

Mattie gulped. "Of course. I'm not going to keep wearing my broken ones." These glasses were also oval-shaped, with blue frames, but the lenses were thinner. "Is your eyesight getting better?" Gilbert asked, peering closer at Matthew's violet orbs, unaware that doing so brought their faces closer together.

"N-no, b-but-" Small, clear circles could be seen in Mattie's eyes. "Are you wearing contacts _and_ glasses?" A crimson blush travelled up the Canadian's neck and onto his face as he lay on the table. "...M-maybe."

_But why would he need to wear both?_ Gilbert remembered something: he'd once said that the glasses were responsible for making Mattie look more feminine.

"My Dad suggested I try out contacts, b-but I'm wearing glasses incase they don't work." Carefully, Gilbert reached up and removed the glasses with slender fingers. "How clear can you see now?"

Mattie could see really well. He wanted to say so. But he got distracted looking at the shape of Gilbert's face: the low, sharp cheekbones, his flawless white skin, layered and styled white hair framing his bold, bright ruby eyes. His nose was straight and elegant, and his lips were thin but a nice pink hue. Gilbert licked those lips just then; Mattie really wanted to kiss him.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, deliberately, startling both men into standing up straight. Ludwig put his briefcase down gently by the front door, one blonde eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"_Hallo._" Gilbert returned his greeting, while Matthew nodded.

Ludwig's serious face frowned, and when Mattie wasn't looking he beckoned his brother into the hall to speak. "_Bruder_, you didn't tell me Matthew was coming _here_."  
"I texted and said I was meeting up with him!" The taller man's eyebrows twitched, a common sign of his irritation. "_Ja,_ but I thought you were going to his house, not-" A blush darkened his face. "I-I have made plans for later on."

"Eh?"

Large hands buried themselves in pockets. "I...I invited Feliciano over for dinner." He could see the wheels in Gilbert's head turning, and waited for the inevitable-

"Awwww, _Ludwig~_!" Thin hands gripped his shoulders as the younger looked away from his teasing brother. "You're finally making a move!"

"_Ruhig sein, Dummkopf!_"

Gilbert laughed, his fingers pinching Ludwig's cheeks adoringly. "Kesesese, _Bruder_ is so cute sometimes! So when's he coming over?"

"_Um acht Uhr_, and you can't be here." Gilbert stopped laughing, and bit his lip. "Is it _just_ dinner you're planning?"

"_Bruder-_!" More uncontained laughter from the albino. A glance at the clock told Ludwig it was already quarter to seven, he had to get the food done! Removing his suit jacket, he addressed Gilbert firmly. "Can you just, be gone before seven _bitte_."

Gilbert hung on the doorframe. "Aw, but we were playing my new Xbox game," He whined, swinging the door. Ludwig's thick arm stopped the door and cold blue eyes glared. "Then take the game to his. I know how much you love to embarrass me, so-"

"Damn right I do."

"-there's no chance this will go well if you're here. And by extension, Matthew." Gilbert pouted, but he understood Ludwig's concerns. How many times had he asked his brother to leave because he was having a girl round? Lots. And some of those times weren't even dates.

_He's growing up. I don't want to ruin his chances with Feli, he's such a good guy._ Gilbert tapped the buff blonde on the shoulder. "So Feli's not attracted to me?"

"What is that supposed to mean."

"Did you clear up the kiss thing between me and him? 'Cause I don't fancy him and-" Ludwig put up a hand. "We talked about it. He said it was a mistake, and that he hopes he didn't mislead you." _Mislead me?! Him?_ "Well, alright. _Gut Glück, Bruder,_" With a mock salute he raced into the living room where Mattie was still playing the game. "Oi, Mattie, can we go to yours for a bit?"

Mattie frowned in confusion. "_Quoi?_" Saving the game and putting it in the case, Gilbert threw his hoodie around his shoulders as he unlocked the front door.

"I'll explain on the way."

* * *

"A date?" Mattie laughed quietly as they strolled to his apartment.

"_Ja,_ I know! I am proud of him." Gilbert seemed to walk with a spring in his step, but that might have been because of his ribs.

The Canadian shook his head, smiling. "Who's he inviting over?"

"Ah, this guy he's had a crush on for years. Feliciano." Mattie adjusted his glasses. "Your brother's gay? Really?"

A smirk was sent his way. "You sound hopeful, Matthew." The blonde's cheeks turned bright red and he balled his fists in front of his mouth. "I- I, uh, I didn't mean-"

Gilbert put a reassuring arm around his shoulders, laughing, "Kesese, I was joking!"

"O-oh…" Mattie giggled nervously, lowering his hands.

"Unless you do actually fancy him." His friend's blush deepened and he refused to meet his gaze. Gilbert stopped walking, spinning Mattie around. "Oh _mein Gott…_.you have the hots for Ludwig!"

"I do not! I hardly know him!"

"So? I've had crushes on loads of girls I never got to know." Mattie gave him a skeptical look. "I don't fancy Ludwig."

"He talks a lot about you when you're not there." Purple eyes widened. "Really?"

Gilbert clapped once, that cocky grin plastered to his face again. "I knew it! I knew-" Mattie threw a soft punch to his shoulder. "Ow! Don't hit me I'm fragile."

Mattie offered his best scowl, but it turned playful. "Then stop trying to tease me."

"Ok, ok. Sorry. I know you can't help going after my gay brother who looks just like me but blonde." Mattie's jaw dropped. "What are you insinuating, Gil?"

Both with blushes, now it was Gilbert's turn to falter. _Oh God, what DID I just insinuate?_ "N-nothing, nevermind." He clicked his fingers. "We should so spy on them and see how it goes!"

"_Non,_ we're not doing that," Mattie dismissed, walking ahead of the taller man. "That's disrespectful."

"Not if they don't know we're there. I have no idea when to go home!"

"W-what do you m-mean?" Mattie raised an eyebrow, as Gilbert replied shyly, "Well...Lud, uh...d-didn't say what _exactly_ his plans were…"

"Oh, you think Feliciano's going to sleep over?" Gilbert snorted, "You make it sound so innocent," he muttered. "_Ja,_ I think he might. So, let's go spy!" He turned to go back but Matthew grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, yanking him back. "You're not like this when one of your friends goes on a date, are you?"

_Friends? He's using the plural, but he's gotta know he's like my only other friend from Ludwig._ "Why do you ask?"

Mattie seemed to shrink a bit. "W-well, like….Say if..._I_ was going on a d-date would you spy on me-?"

"You're going on a date?" The German blurted. "With who?" He didn't mean to sound snappy, but this was a total shock to him.

Mattie recoiled slightly, looking away. "I-I wasn't going to say anything, b-because well it never came up. B-but I've been hanging out with Ivan a lot lately."

_Ivan Braginski. Matthew is going on a date...with Ivan Braginski._ Gilbert felt uneasy hearing that name. He didn't know the man well; something he was glad to say, as the Russian had an aura about him both terrifying and intriguing. Evidently Mattie had thought the same thing, but acted upon his impulse.

The albino tried not to show as much emotion on his features as compared to the concatenation of feelings lashing his mind. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow." _Tomorrow?_ He wanted to yell at Mattie. _Thanks for the warning! I could've just gone without knowing. _Instead, Gilbert just echoed the word, 'tomorrow' aloud, and they continued walking.

* * *

At Mattie's, neither of his parents were home and they set up the game again in his room, but Gilbert wasn't really focusing on it. _He's going on a date, with Ivan. So what? I should be happy for him, he's...found a guy who is probably normal and who likes him in that way._

"You're annoyed about Ivan, aren't you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"_Nein, ich bin glücklich für dich_." Mattie asked him to repeat it in English. "I'm happy for you, Mattie."

Mattie put the controller down and faced him, cross-legged. "And we agreed to not tell lies."

A sigh leapt from Gilbert's throat. "I just have a bad feeling about him. There's something...foreboding about the way he speaks and moves. It's like he's stalking you." That got a cringe from the Canadian. "Gilbert, that's a horrible thing to say-"

"Well, sometimes the truth about what I think _is_ horrible, Matthew," He snapped, his lips pulling back in a snarl. "And I don't want you to be in danger. I wish I could like the guy, for your sake, but I can't."

"He might not be a bad person. I've met up with him alone before and he's never done or said anything weird." Gilbert's eyes widened. He'd already met up with him, alone? After all the shit they'd been through with strangers? "Maybe you don't know him well enough yet. He could be planning something-"  
"That's why people meet up, Gil, so they get to know each other better!" Mattie's face was flushed, his hair curling like golden snakes over his shoulders.

Gilbert gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into his thighs, using the pain of the cuts to calm his mind. "Ngh...I wouldn't say these things, if...If I wasn't certain he's harmful."

Matthew folded his arms and spat, "Really? Because if anything you sound-" He stopped himself, his expression falling.

The albino raised an eyebrow. "I sound what, Matthew?" The blonde man bit the inside of his lip. Instead of finishing his sentence, he whispered, "Why did you suggest that I liked you on the way here?"

"_Was?_" Mattie scowled. "You heard me. You suggested that I liked you and it's not the first time you've done that. You tease me, and you flirt with me, knowing that you're doing it. I know it's playful, but...I almost believed it." His purple eyes now looked watery, and he focused his gaze on the carpet floor. Gilbert watched him intently, silent, hanging on his every word.

Mattie jumped up, his fists balled and arms tense. "Do you know how you sounded after I mentioned Ivan?" Red eyes pleaded with him to share the answer. "You sounded _jealous_."

Gilbert wanted to tell him no, no, that Mattie was being ridiculous. But he didn't.

_I...He's right. He's right, I…did sound jealous. But I wanted to protect him._

With a stifled sob, Matthew sat heavily on his bed, feet touching the floor. He covered his eyes with his palms. "It's true, I did like you, Gilbert. I...I really liked you." The happiness Gilbert thought he would feel at hearing those words didn't come. _Did. He said did. Past tense._ "But you don't now."

"_Non,_ not like that! Because-" Teary, bloodshot eyes glared at him from behind parted fingers. "I didn't want to scare you away. You were the first person to talk to me aside from my family, in years! You were really nice to me, helped me, gave me friendship...And when I found out you were straight, I felt guilty for liking you. I felt ashamed, because I knew it was hopeless and unrequited but I couldn't stop. So when Ivan started talking to me, inviting me out, openly showing me he liked me, I decided to bury my feelings for you. I believe Ivan is a good person, who's good to me. I'm not used to putting myself first, but it feels damn good. If you're straight, and if you're my friend, _why_ do you seem so conflicted?"

"Because I am!" Gilbert was on his feet. "I am conflicted, about everything! My whole fucking world has changed so much since I met you! I don't know what my mental state is, I don't know what my sexuality is, sometimes I don't even know who I am." He felt a tear run down his cheek, but left it on it's journey.

Mattie was looking up at him through equally angered eyes. "Are you saying _I'm_ to blame, for that? Am I the cat?" He hadn't mentioned it in a while but clearly he hadn't forgotten.

That was it, those words tor Gilbert's defiance apart. More tears joined the first , soaking his face and blurring his vision.

He sat down on the bed, a distance from his friend. "_Nein, nein_ you are not the cat." An idea came to mind, the perfect representation of Matthew Williams. "You're a bird. My birdie." Mattie sniffled, again putting one fist to his mouth. "What use is a bird when there's a cat around."

"Birds can fly. They can make people feel like they're flying, too," Gilbert said.

Matthew used his sleeve to clean his face up a bit, but his lips still shook as he spoke. "Y-you're my best friend, Gilbert. I don't want to ruin that. I n-never wanted to, I just wanted to help. I wanted a friend and I know that sounds selfish but-" Gilbert moved forward, cupped Mattie's face in his hands and kissed him.

It was a fierce touch of lips, lasting only seconds because Mattie pushed him away. "What are you doing?" He asked incredulously.

Gilbert stepped back. "I'm sorry I-"

"Go. Just go." The broken tone of the Canadian's voice, the hurt in his eyes already had him heading for the door.

He shut it quietly behind him.

* * *

*REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep is the stage of resting you enter just before dreaming usually occurs. Gilbert suffered from an _isolated sleep paralysis _experience and an _out-of-body _experience as well as hallucinations caused by stress and lack of sleep.

Ohhh so sad. I might shed a tear, but I have more to write. See you soon, guys!

Translations:

_Montag _- Monday

_Lass mich schlafen _- Let me sleep

_Hilf mir! Jemand, bitte, hilf mir! _- Help me! Someone, help me!

_Nein! Halt! _- No! Stop!

_Alles gut mit mir, auch. _- Everything's good with me, too.

_Ja, das war richtig_ - Yes, that was right

_Ruhig sein, Dummkopf! _- Be quiet, idiot!

_Um acht Uhr_ -At 8 o'clock

_Gut Glück, Bruder _- Good luck, brother


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, I am sorry it took me longer to update. The Internet crashed for a week and I cried. However, I bring my new chapter with me as I'm back. Now, I know I said things would lighten up, and I didn't _li__e_, exactly, but...they won't just yet. It's essential to the story. So I'll give you guys some warnings: **T****his chapter contains scenes of a discomforting nature that some viewers may find disturbing. Please read with caution**.

* * *

He wandered, seemingly lost in the streets so close to his home.

_Fuck it, I'm going home._

Stepping silently into the living room, Gilbert listened for sounds which would tell him Feliciano was _sleeping over_. No such sounds were heard, but he did hear two sets of breaths as he tiptoed his way past Ludwig's room and into his own.

Lying again on the sheets, curtains drawn, Gilbert was too annoyed with himself to be scared. _By the time I admit I like him, it's too late. I always fuck things up._

He fell into a deep sleep, his argument with Mattie having exhausted him beyond the reach of the cat.

* * *

The morning, however, proved to be slightly more uplifting.

Gilbert was eating a bowl of cornflakes when a barely dressed Feliciano stumbled into the kitchen, limping and putting a hand to his forehead.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." Upon noticing him, the little Italian blushed and turned away, pretending not to hear. Next came the lumbering, sleepy form of his brother, dressed only in boxers, his hair mussed and eyes squinting at the morning light.

He saw Gilbert, who grinned like a Cheshire cat. He looked at Feli, who was preparing pasta. He blushed.

Jumping up, the albino bounded over to him. "_Guten Morgen, _Ludwig."

"..._Morgen_." Ludwig reached up to take two cups from a cabinet. "I see you didn't stay over at Matthew's." Gilbert leaned against the wall. "I see Feli _did_ stay over. Rough night?" Feli whirled, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, as Ludwig blushed a deeper red.

"G-Gilbert!" Feli whined. "Please don't say things like that." A pang of guilt came with the vision of those honey-coloured orbs. "Ah...you're right, sorry."

After a few moments of utter silence, he caught his younger brother's eyes and whispered, "You dog, you!"

It was at this point he received a backhand to the face, and was ordered to leave the room before he caused any more trouble. In his room he stole a glance at the calendar, _Damn. I have my meeting with Honda today_. He pulled on some loose navy jeans, after checking his legs weren't too bad - using rubbing alcohol wipes was proving to be a bitch- and wrapped his torso in a chequered blue long-sleeved shirt over a white vest. His trainers completed this ever-simple outfit and when 10:45am rolled around he shot out of the door. Typically he now had his meetings with Honda every Saturday, and seeing as Ludwig would need the car he'd have to walk.

Having arrived at the centre, Gilbert checked himself in and was moments later called into Doctor Honda's office.

"おはようございます_,_ Gilbert-san," Greeted the small Japanese man as he sat in his large desk chair, hands folded neatly in his lap. Gilbert held back a chuckle: because of his accent, Honda said his name as _Gi-ru-bert_ and it always made him want to laugh.

"_Morgen_, Doctor Honda." Ever since he'd become comfortable with his new therapist, Gilbert still felt they had this unspoken formality between each other. Certainly different to the relationship he had with Bonnefoy.

"What would you like to discuss today?" The black-haired man asked, a peaceful smile on his face.

"..." _Mattie. I want to talk about Mattie_. "I...have a friendship predicament."

"Please be aware that this therapy is for your benefit alone, Gilbert."

Pale hands clutched on another over bent knees. "_Ja_, I know, but...this is affecting my life, and I...don't know how to deal with it."

Kiku tilted his head. "Very well."

_Shit. Now I have to explain it._ "My friend, who I'm quite close to, is going on a date tonight. A-and I know I should be happy but I think the guy they're meeting up with is...strange."

"How is he strange?"

Red eyes blinked repeatedly. "I've met him a few times, he's...odd. He acts like a predator; like everyone around him is inferior and he seems to want to manipulate my friend."

_Gott, this is so embarrassing_. A hiss sounded in his brain, distant but not inconspicuous.. Gilbert felt claws, like tiny needles, being dragged across his mind, penetrating his thoughts as he spoke. "But my friend only sees the best in him, and tonight they're meeting up. I'm just worried."

Taking in the limited information he'd been given, Kiku sat back and let out a breath. "This friend of yours….do you like her?"

_Oh….I forgot to tell him…._ "Um, actually, it's a guy." He stated shyly, gaining a slightly shocked look from the Oriental man. "A-ah, I am sorry-"

"_Nein_, it's...wait. Why are you sorry?"

"I did not realise you were attracted to men."

"I'm not!" Blurted the albino, getting the older man to recoil once more. Gilbert sighed. "I mean….I don't know how I feel about him." He looked up to Honda, determination in his eyes, "But I know how I feel about the guy he's meeting, he's trouble."

"Gilbert, you say that you don't know how you feel about your friend," Kiku Honda began slowly, his serious gaze never wavering. "Could it be that you are making yourself think he is a bad person, to take the attention away from yourself?"

Gilbert scowled, annoyed. "Why would I do that? I know he's a bad influence."

"Let us assume you do like your friend. You might want to create an...excuse to stop him from dating other people."  
"But it's not an excuse, I told my friend he was dangerous and that just made him push me away!" Gilbert's tone was heated, the anger barely contained. _I'm not imagining this! I've seen the products of my imagination and Ivan's behaviour isn't one of them._ He was so certain. Carefully, with precision, Honda straightened and squared his shoulders. "That is a typical reaction. From his point of view, I can imagine you sounded-"

"Jealous. So he said."

"大丈夫_. _Then you know there isn't much to be done about this." After moments of contemplation, the white-haired male nodded in understanding. "So...so if something happens, I have to be there and say, 'I told you so'?"

Honda frowned. "いいえ,I wouldn't recommend such an action. _If_ something were to happen he would appreciate gestures of comfort. Now," He looked at his watch, noting the thirty minutes they had left, "is there anything else you would like to speak about?"

_Nein,_ Gilbert thought_. I have nothing more to mention other than the fact I think Mattie's in danger_.

* * *

"_Papa_, I am not wearing that." Mattie deadpanned when he saw the pink V-neck sweater Francis was holding aloft gracefully.

"Aw, come on, it's your date night!" He draped the clothing playfully over his son's shoulders. Francis was unnerved by the fact that he hadn't met Ivan, but from what Matthew had told him, he seemed like a gentleman.

"I already put on my outfit," Mattie sighed, gesturing to what he was wearing: a pair of baggy pale jeans, blue thin jumper, black converse and nervous smile.

Francis pouted, lowering the pink fabric atrocity. "Not what I would choose to wear on a formal date, _mais_, I am not you, _Matthieu_."

Matthew raised his eyebrows in agreement and put his wallet and new phone into his pockets. He checked the time. "Still fifteen minutes."

"He's picking you up at seven?"

Mattie blushed. "_O-oui_."

"That's a bit early, _non_?"

"H-hey! I decided the time, Papa." Lightly tanned arms folded as he scowled at his father, who pouted playfully. "So he's invited you out before, and you didn't tell your Papa anything?"

"W-well, I- It was only coffee. This is a ...uhm..." _Proper date_, he had wanted to say. But if he let those words leave his lips it seemed to him like a crime.

More than that, those words somehow…..sounded like a goodbye.

* * *

Ivan collected him briefly, offering only a wave to Francis and Arthur, and a pleasant smile. Waving gently in greeting, Matthew jogged between the falling raindrops to Ivan's silver Porsche, climbing in and shutting the door.

"_Bonjour_, Ivan," He smiled sweetly, and Ivan replied with, "Здравствуйте, Мэтти," which mesmerised the petite blonde as they drove off.

Russian was an incredibly strange language, according to Mattie, but he loved the sound of it. It sounded bold, confident, and, well….a little intimidating, too. But Ivan always spoke it with such a gentle expression he felt it was nothing more than a comfortable whimsy Ivan made a habit of. _Just like Gilbert._

_No. Don't think about him. Don't think about what he looks like, or about his red eyes, or about…_

"Are you alright?" Asked Ivan as he drove.

_...the kiss._ Mattie snapped back to reality, his wavy hair stroking his cheeks. "_Oui_, I-I'm fine." _Don't think about him. Especially not the fact that he stole my first kiss, and I bet that kiss was his hundredth…_

The car parked beside an Italian restaurant, and they climbed out; Mattie noticed that Ivan was wearing his signature trenchcoat and scarf, but thinner jeans and classy dress shoes. Ah….I must look too casual, he thought sullenly.

The restaurant was incredibly welcoming, with bright yet sophisticated colours and décor; the tables were of varying sizes and all had small vases of flowers centred on them. A waitress met them and escorted them to a two-seated table.

Sitting opposite Ivan, Mattie found it hard to focus on choosing his order. Ivan had such an interesting air about him, he didn't know whether to look away or stare: his round face was framed by short pale hair, much like the sideburns of a tiger; his nose was prominent and blunt; his smile looked nice but clearly hid something else behind it; and his eyes...they were the deepest shade of sapphire, tinted with lilac - much like his own.

"How are you feeling today, Мэтти?"

He jolted, caught unawares. "O-oh, I'm fine. G-great, actually," A small smile graced his features. "You?"

"I am also well, спасибо." Ivan paused, his eyes scanning Mattie's face as the waiter approached. After their orders had been taken he commented, "I was so worried to hear you had been in a fight."

Mattie looked down. "I didn't really get hurt, but…"

"Ah, да," Ivan's expression softened. "How is brave Гилберт doing?"

"Uhm, he's...he's recovering." Mattie had no idea what to say, he hadn't planned on discussing the albino on his date. Another uplifting grin was offered by the bulky Russian as he reached over and subtly took Mattie's hand, holding it firmly. "хорошо." Even though he didn't know what it meant, Matthew smiled. "What does that mean?" A look of surprise reached Ivan's eyes, as if he hadn't realised he was speaking Russian. "So sorry, it means 'good'. I am glad you were not badly hurt, but I would rather you were not injured at all."

"T-thank you, Ivan...that's really sweet." Their hands clenched tighter, hidden behind the vase of roses.

"A black eye does not suit one so attractive as yourself, anyway," Another mysterious grin.

_…..I'm sure he only meant it as a joke, _Mattie assured himself._ Or as a compliment?_

The dinner went smoothly: they exchanged interests and were generally conforming to stereotypes of a modern date. The kiss they shared outside the restaurant persuaded Ivan to invite Matthew back to his place, to which the timid Canadian quietly accepted.

* * *

Gilbert was stressed. He paced the floor of his bedroom, the bathroom, the living room and even outside for a bit. He couldn't think clearly and he couldn't coordinate himself properly.

_Something's gonna happen, I know it!_

He felt it in the marrow of his bones, in every one of his nerves, every muscle. They all screamed that Mattie was in trouble and also were a constant reminder that he could do fuck all about it.

The cat had been bothering him for a couple of hours, since seven. It also paced his mind, darkening the corners, it's bright blue eyes narrowed in anticipation.

The German sat down in a kitchen chair, his elbow on the island and his fist buried into his cheek. He closed his eyes and saw the beast walking around his head, it's claws unsheathed and sharp. It's fur was still black, but it shone as if it were wet. As if it was perspiring. _You're nervous, too, kitty. At least we agree on something._

He had made two cuts on his leg in an attempt to sate it, but clearly it wasn't looking for his blood this time.

Did it want to hurt Mattie instead, and it was annoyed that he wasn't here to hurt? Was it angry that Gilbert had ruined their friendship? _I shouldn't have kissed him,_ Thought the albino for the thousandth time that day. _Now he's never going to want to see me again._

Gilbert looked at the plain wall opposite him, and saw Mattie's face as it had been yesterday: hurt, tear-stained and flushed. For the first time in weeks the blanket of numbness consumed him.

* * *

Ivan lived in a huge house on the outskirts of town, which seemed fitting as he drove an expensive car and had solely paid the bill for their food at the costly restaurant he took them to. It loomed, a great white-and-black structure, away from neighbours yet unsettlingly not alone. Ivan took his date's hand and led him into the darkened hallway, where the only light was a lamp he switched on when they reached the barely-decorated living room.

Mattie was ever more anxious. He rubbed his hands together, fingers cold. He felt rather than saw Ivan approach him; the man's presence was so contained he could _sense_ the strength held within that body.

However, he wanted to feel it more, in reality.

Wordlessly, Ivan's gloved hands turned his blushing face towards his, and their lips met again. Already a soft moan was drawn from the Canadian; this kiss was very different to the butterfly one at the restaurant, it was more intense, rougher. Pressing him against the door shutting off the hallway, Ivan broke the kiss for breath, and invaded Mattie's mouth again, his tongue darting in to explore the salivating cave.

"_I-Ivan_…" Mattie groaned, his frail arms wrapping themselves around the Russian's neck, the scarf a soft contrasting feeling to the fierceness with which his tongue was caressed.

Ivan's hands removed Mattie's arms from his neck, sloughing off his trenchcoat and helping Mattie out of his jumper. Before Mattie could say anything Ivan had his arms pinned by his sides, on the wall, as he kissed along his jawline and thin throat.

Mattie panted, he had never felt so wanted, so alive, so _noticed_.

The sensation of Ivan's lips on his sensitive skin made him shiver. The Russian bit his neck, then, and Mattie cried out.

"Ah! I-Ivan, t-that hurts…" The biting wouldn't stop, teeth dug deeper. Mattie head a click as some punctured the skin, felt trails of blood running down his throat.

He struggled, but to no avail. The sheer brute force kept him pinned, paralysed. Suddenly one of Ivan's large hands cupped the blonde's crotch.

_I don't want this. He's too rough._ "Ivan, p-please stop." He tried softly, but Ivan captured his lips again, the kiss deep and overwhelming.

Mattie struggled more, "Ivan, stop!"

"But Мэтти is liking this play…" Fingers massaged Matthew's growing erection, though he willed it away. "_Non,_ I-ah!" Hard pressure was applied between his legs, making the smaller man gasp, his eyes watering. "Stop…." Finally, Ivan's glowing purple eyes narrowed and he softened his hold.

"W-why are you s-so rough, Ivan?" Mattie demanded, shocked.

The shark's grin appeared again; Ivan put his lips next to Matthew's ear. "_I also have a pet._"

Pale lilac eyes widened in horror. Mattie's breaths became faster, more shallow. _No. No…._

A soft chuckle made his skin prickle. Ivan pulled back to stare into his eyes. "Y-you mean, like Gilbert?" Asked Mattie, frightened.

"нет. There is a difference. Gilbert is being _kept_ as a pet. I," He whispered, "am _keeping_ one."

Another gasp left the Canadian's ravaged lips.

"It's insatiable, Мэтью...it wants you." Gloved hands now grabbed thin hips and pulled their abdomens together. "I want you."

"You're insane," Breathed the smaller male, a hint of disgust in his eyes.

Ivan's expression hardened. "I am not. I am the master of my pet,_ I_ control it. Unlike your precious German friend," He spat, his teeth glinting with Mattie's blood. "Gilbert is the ladder his pet will climb to hunt you. He will hurt you."

"You're hurting me right now. He's...never hurt me." Mattie held his ground, his bare chest protruding.

Ivan licked his lips. "Not physically." That got Matthew to flush and look away, but he continued, whispering sharply, "Gilbert is unstable. I know what I want."

"I don't want this...Ivan…" Two crystal tears ran down the blonde man's cheeks; Ivan caught one on his fingertip and licked it. "My pet and I can become one," He explained. "When we do…" A sigh escaped his mouth, "I feel so good. There is a quiet sense of power when I find my prey, Мэтти. Become one with me."

Exhaustion overcame Matthew. He was tired of fighting, of struggling uselessly. When he gave no answer, Ivan snarled, picked him up and threw him down onto the black leather sofa in the dim light, gaining another yelp of fright.

Ivan was upon him, tearing off his shoes and jeans, leaving him cowering in boxers, shivering. Those manipulative purple eyes sparkled with excitement.

The massive, toned man hovered over Mattie's weakened body. "I see betrayal in your soul," Ivan opined, his left hand stroking the skin of Mattie's thin stomach, chest, neck. "I know you have passion for the albino."

"L-leave Gilbert out of this-" The Canadian snapped, but was silenced by a bruising kiss.

"Be mine. Be my new toy, Мэтти, and I will not hurt him." Ivan flipped Matthew onto his stomach, then lifted his body up and wrapped a thick forearm around his chest to hold him close. Mattie's blood was boiling, his mind confused, his exposed body trembling as Ivan's hand once again slid down to his crotch. He whimpered. _I can't escape this. He could injure me. Worse, he could injure Gilbert. How did it come to this, to surrender….I…_

"Fine," The soft voice broke the dangerous silence. "Promise me. Promise me you'll leave him alone, Ivan."

He was pushed onto all fours atop the sofa, presented before his captor like a sacrifice.

"да, as long as he does not interfere," Ivan's tongue trailed across the back of Matthew's neck, heightening his arousal. Grinding against his prey the Russian let out a gentle laugh. "Don't you know how much cats are attracted to birds?"

* * *

...Yeah, that's why the warnings were there. By the way, I never wanted to make Ivan the bad guy. I didn't want to make anyone the bad guy, but there has to be one. This gloominess won't last much longer, I swear! Also, if anyone wants to correct my Japanese or Russian, feel free~

Translations:

おはようございます (_Ohayōgozaimasu_) - Good morning

大丈夫 (_Daijōbu_) - All right

いいえ (_Iie_) - No

Здравствуйте, Мэтти (_Zdravstvuyte, Metti_) - Hello, Mattie

спасибо (_spasibo_) - Thank you

Да (_Da_) - Yes

Гилберт (_Gilbert_) - Gilbert

хорошо (_khorosho_) - Good

Мэтью (_Met'yu_) - Matthew


	11. Chapter 11

May the Fourth be with you! I know it's not May 4th everywhere but...it will be! Anyway, enjoy guys!

* * *

It was morning when Mattie opened the door to the apartment, to see both parents watching some soap on TV. Arthur whirled around, "Ah! You're home - are you alright?"

Mattie looked alright. In fact, he looked better than alright. He stood tall, his posture proud, and he seemed to glow with a newfound confidence. He beamed at them as he crossed the room, "_Oui_, Dad, I'm fine."

Francis bit his lip, trying not to smirk. He called after his disappearing son, "A warm shower is advised, it will make the pain go away-"

"Francis!" Arthur hissed, swatting his arm as the Frenchman chuckled.

Mattie shut himself in his bedroom, locked the door, and slumped. He couldn't sit down; it was a miracle he could appear that healthy. His first time was nowhere near as pleasant nor romantic as he'd imagined…..neither was his second time, or the third.

Ivan was about exerting power over him. He didn't have sex to gain pleasure, he only did it for dominance. Pain, Mattie realised, was much better at dominating people than pleasure ever could be, even just the few moments of it reached during coitus. The blonde's bruised shoulders shook as a sob escaped his throat, followed by a river of tears and self-loathing.

He had heard Francis's teasing advice; after the night he'd had with Ivan, he would jump into a bath full of boiling water if he could.

* * *

He clenched the Iphone so tight in his palm it left red imprints in the flesh. He stared at the screen.

**Mattie's Mobile Number** so the letters said. God, Gilbert wanted to call him so badly. Would his phone be on? Would he reply?

_What if he's...at Ivan's._ Gilbert gulped. He'd avoided thinking that such things might go on between Ivan and Mattie, but...well, it _had _been a date. And it's not like they were two 15 year-olds in the light of puppy love.

The albino hadn't been able to sleep the previous night, knowing that Mattie was with that creep, but not knowing what they were doing.

He tricked himself into believing he didn't want to know. For some reason, he felt burning hatred at the thought that Matthew could be sleeping with someone….

_Nein_, he corrected. _I feel angry at the thought of Mattie sleeping with someone else._

_Does this mean I really do want to sleep with him, or is it more than that?_

He was so protective of the Canadian, sometimes treated him like he was made of glass. Maybe that was it, he was just being overprotective.

_Someone holding Mattie, being able to kiss him, touch him, knowing he wants it too. I...I want that. He's my best friend! I shouldn't be thinking of him this way! _A loud hiss echoed inside his skull, and he quieted down.

_Ivan might have done something to hurt him. Something might have happened. Fuck. FUCK. I have to know! _Reluctantly pushing the 'call' icon, Gilbert held the thin metal to his ear.

The beeps seemed to last forever.

"_Allo_? _Gilbert?_" Gilbert was surprised to hear Francis's voice. "_Hallo_, Francis. I, uh...I was ringing to check on Mattie."

A sigh from the other end. "_He is taking a shower right now, but he's fine. Do you want me to give him a message?"_

"_Nein_, I was just….Nevermind."

"_Gilbert,_" The Frenchman's voice sounded firm. "_Why do you sound so concerned." _The white-haired German chewed his lip, thinking of an appropriate response. "_Ich dachte dass_….I thought Ivan might…._Ich weiss nicht_….Do something to upset him."

The tone grew more suspicious. "_Like what._"

"I don't trust Ivan, okay!" He confessed in a huff. "Every time I've met him, spoken to him, he...seemed strange. A bad kind of strange."

"_This is a gut feeling, you have no evidence to prove he is strange_?" _Mattie would be the evidence in this case_, he thought angrily. "_...Ja_. I have no evidence. It's probably just stupid, but I had to check. _Tut mir leid_."

"_...I understand. Merci for making sure he was alright, au revoir_-"

"Wait," He blurted hastily. "...D-did he...stay at Ivan's?" He received another soft sigh. "_You will have to talk with Matthieu about that. Goodbye,"_ The other line clicked off.

Panic and worry flowed into Gilbert upon hearing those words. _He did. Francis would've outright told me if he hadn't. Oh Gott, Mattie…. _He growled, angry that he couldn't know, but even more because if Ivan had done _anything_. If he had so much as laid one finger on Mattie, he'd make sure the Russian could never touch him again.

The cat stood up abruptly, fangs bared, hackles raised. Gilbert felt goosebumps prickle his skin, and waited there, paused, for an unknown amount of time.

Uncertainty had blurred his link with reality, with time; it was almost 1pm before he thought to move. He looked down at his phone again. Unlocked it. Looked up Mattie's number again.

_Come on, come on, be ok. _Shaking fingertips typed a text.

**Hi, Mattie. Are you ok? **

Time passed. Two minutes, five, ten, twenty. Gilbert found himself addicted to checking the screen, to imagining he got a text which would either put his worries to rest, or confirm his fears.

It would be late into the night before such a reply would be sent.

* * *

Matthew Williams stood naked in front of the full-length mirror on the inside of his wardrobe door. His hands, trembling, hugged his strained body.

From the small of his back to his shoulders, there were bruises. Some small, some large, caused by pressured fingers or palms, sometimes hickeys. Only the hickeys had scabs on them, from where the Russian's teeth had filed away the skin until he bled. His hips had clear cuts on them from Ivan's fingernails, his hair was scruffy because it had been pulled and knotted between frantic digits and every single muscle felt weak.

Hell, he _had_ been weak. Ivan had taken him like a dog, and made him stay in that position. Even when Mattie had hoped to salvage a caring relationship and suggest he turn around, he was punished.

Ivan only liked to be kind when he was...hunting, so he'd put it.

Mattie gingerly touched his backside, to see if it- _Damn! I-it hurts_. The stabs of pain shot up his spine, making him cringe. _Merde_.

Ivan hadn't prepared him properly, had put it in too quick. He remembered how loud his scream had been, how Ivan had seemed to soak up his pain with a scary serenity.

Now he could still feel how big, how intrusive the Russian had felt inside him. True, he'd had some pleasure, but that was not one of the memories etched into his brain.

_I...I did it to protect Gilbert. I'm...with Ivan now, to protect my friend. I can't guess what exactly Ivan would do to him if he ever captured him, but if it's anything like how he treated me…_ A look of determination crossed his face, and the one in the mirror. _Then let it be me suffering rather than him._

A familiar buzz sounded on his desk; Mattie hobbled over and picked up the device, staring at the text from Gilbert.

What the hell was he supposed to reply with? Could he lie to his best friend, even after swearing to Ivan he'd tell no one?

The stress of deciding what to say put him off replying completely. He was so lonely, so battered and tired, that the only benefiting thing he could think to do was carefully manoeuvre himself into bed and try to sleep.

Nightmares and vivid memories soon enveloped him.

Shocked awake, whimpering, sweating, Mattie hugged his body and tried to calm his twittering heart. He'd kept seeing Ivan, feeling his threatening touch, looking into those pitiless poisonous purple pits of his…

_Non, it wasn't real. Not this time. Not tonight. I have to be strong._ Grabbing his phone and seeing no new messages, he stared at the one from Gilbert.

It was just a few letters, that could make many other words….yet the albino had structured them carefully, fearfully, to make sure Mattie was alright.

He'd give up what was left of his pride to help him.

With shaking breaths the Canadian quickly sent a reply, feeling as if Ivan was watching him even now.

**Oui, I'm fine.**

Something simple. Couldn't easily be misread, and was a sign that on some level their normal friendship had been preserved. _I wish it hadn't come to this, to me being kept away from him. Dammit, Ivan._

* * *

Shorter one than usual, I know. I've had a case of writer's block lately, and I swear I have ADHD or some shit because I - SQUIRREL!

Oh, as for the French used when on the phone, I don't know if there's like a specific phrase used to say 'bye' so I went with _au revoir_ but please correct me if it's wrong.

Translations:

_Ich dachte dass_ - I thought that


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you so much for your reviews, I love them! Even if they are to tell me off for the current storyline... *blushes*

**Warnings in this chapter for violence, swearing and scenes of an uncomfortable nature.**

* * *

Two weeks went by, in which Gilbert and Matthew had little contact - if they did talk it was via text - and the Canadian continued to visit his Russian captor, each time feeling like he'd crawled into a spider's web, only to be bitten and have his insides turn to mush before being cast savagely aside once more.

It was during the third week, on the second visit to Ivan's house that week, that things began to change.

So soon into this pathetic excuse of a relationship, Mattie's anger had been rising. With every thickly-accented word Ivan spoke, with every thrust into his supple body he became closer and closer to exploding.

Mattie was escorted into the large house, where he began to walk to Ivan's dark bedroom; his feet stopped. _I have to say something to him_.

"I-Ivan." The burly Russian turned to him, as unpredictable as an unexploded grenade. "Mm?"

Cold, chafed hands gripped the fabric of his hoodie. "I d-don't want to do this today."

"Why is that?" His voice was so cold, colder than any Russian winter.

Mattie couldn't meet his glare. Not yet. "I'm sore, I'm exhausted...We're supposed to be in a relationship. Can't we just...relax for a while?" He gestured to the small TV in the corner of the spacious living-room.

Heavy footsteps made their way over to him and Ivan looked down at the blonde. "нет, we are only doing what I want to do." Ivan whispered into Mattie's ear, "It appears as if we are in relationship. Really, I am your jailor."

"C-can't we just relax-?" Mattie was interrupted by a harsh slap to the face, one which brought tears to his eyes.

The beating was a new addition to this twisted agreement - though Ivan only ever slapped his face. The punches, bites and scratches were reserved for less visible body parts.

"Bedroom, now." Ivan's eyes were colder than any Russian winter, his tone sharp as a blade. It was the first time he'd ever commanded Matthew do this so soon after arriving.

_Non, I will not conform to this. _Hesitantly, the Canadian backed away, shaking his head. "_Non_."

Russian eyes widened.

"I will not. I can't take this anymore." _The door, get to the door_- a gloved hand gripped his shoulder. "Then you no longer want to protect Gilbert?"

Mattie swallowed. "...I'll still protect him, but not like this. Not with you using me this way."

Suddenly he was in Ivan's strong arms again, fearful, with hands crushed to his chest. "Мэтти likes it rough. I hear him scream but it is not from pain." That got the blonde to blush slightly. _I don't like it with him. I don't. I…_ Soft lips kissed his neck tenderly, and he melted into the touch.

"See?" Whispered Ivan, softening his hold on his prey.

"Y-y-you're not n-normally l-like this, Ivan…" Ivan's fingers stroked along Mattie's jaw, his chest, and down to his hips where they lifted his clothes and rested on bare hipbones. Mattie mewled softly, much to Ivan's delight. Turning him around, Matthew's hands were placed on the wall, as the big-built man overpowering him slid the younger's trousers down partially. Just enough to get what he needed.

"I-Ivan-" Stutters escaped the blonde, but Ivan was still being gentle. Still careful, as he released his own and then Mattie's member, palming it softly.

"_Ah….N-non, I_…"

"Shh," He murmured to him as he aligned his hardened organ, covered in slimy fluid. Ivan gave an abrupt thrust into Mattie, directly hitting his prostate.

"Ivan!" His legs almost buckled, but the smaller man held fell in pleasure and agony as his erection throbbed.

_Stop! Make it stop! I can't- I hate this! _Pushing off the wall, Mattie pulled himself free of the Russian, his arm moving, fist curling - landing a right hook into Ivan's cheekbone.

He could feel his knuckles rattling and cracking, heard clicks as Ivan's teeth smashed together and his cheekbone bruising.

Ivan didn't have time to register shock, only anger, as he saw his toy fix his trousers and make a beeline for the front door. Staggering after him, Ivan's hand clasped Mattie's sleeve.

The person who turned to him was not the Matthew Williams he knew. This one was stronger, determined, powerful - and more importantly, pissed off.

"Bastard!" Yelled Mattie as he swung his leg up, kicking Ivan's groin so hard Ivan could almost _taste_ his testicles.

Mattie took his chance as Ivan crumpled to the floor, throwing open the door and his body through it, running, running, desperate to get away.

* * *

He felt like he was being chased by a cheetah, feet pounding the ground as if he was a jet on a runway. _Home. Home is safe; he wouldn't dare get me at home_. Mattie's body was still aching, the promise of ecstasy still lingering in his veins.

Arriving home, teary-eyed, clothing ragged, Matthew didn't see the white-haired man walking the opposite direction he was jogging -

"Oof!" He collided into the man, knocking them both down.

"O-oh! I-I'm sorry!" Yelped the blonde as he climbed to his feet, looking down hastily at… _Gilbert. _The albino's wide red eyes focused, and took Mattie's proffered hand to help him up. "Mattie? What's wrong?" His tone, the one portraying his concern since they had stopped hanging out, made the Canadian want to cry.

In fact, no, he _did_ cry. Out in the open, careless, fearless. Through blurred vision he saw arms enveloping him. "Oh, Birdie….Let's get you home."

"N-not yet," Mattie decided, but they began to walk that way nonetheless. "I- I can't go home yet, I look…" Oh God, how _did_ he look? Terrified? Traumatised? He felt that way.

"..._Wo dann_?" Asked Gilbert, worried. "Ludwig and Feli are hanging at mine...Ah, how 'bout a cafe?"

Balled fists covered Mattie's mouth. "...Just until I can get cleaned up."

* * *

The cafe they'd visited had a bathroom, and now they were on their way back with Mattie feeling just a little bit more human. Looking like it, too. He' smoothed down his hair hastily with water, readjusted his clothes and washed his face, making his bloodshot eyes less noticeable.

Warily, Gilbert stole a glance at him. "Matthew…"

"I don't want to talk right now, Gil." He couldn't bring himself to sound firm, but he hoped it was enough. So no words were spoken until Mattie rapped his knuckles on the familiar door of his home. _Idiot_, he cursed internally, _leaving my keys at home_.

Arthur opened the door, thick eyebrows raised at the miserable duo.

"Oh, hello, lads. You alright, Matthew?" Mattie put on a small smile and nodded. "_Oui_, I was coming back from Ivan's…"

"Ah, Gilbert was just asking if you were home," The older blonde chuckled. "I see he found you. Are you coming in, Gilbert?"

Aforementioned man caught Mattie's lilac eyes. Discreetly, the Canadian sent a nod his way. _I need to talk to you, Mattie_. _I've missed you_.

"_Ja, sicher_."

* * *

Mattie left the bedroom door open, as per his parent's agreement, while Gilbert stood awkwardly in the centre of the Canadian-style room.

They were both thinking the same thing: that the last time they'd been in here, almost three weeks earlier, Gilbert had kissed him.

"Uh...so, how's Ivan?" _Bad question, you dick, make the situation worse!_

Mattie looked tearful again. He remained standing, his hands clasped together. "A-actually….we broke up."

Shock registered on Gilbert's unnervingly pale face. "_Just now_?"

"W-well...y-yeah…"

Gilbert's brow creased in frustration. "What did he do." Screw the façade, the protectiveness in his tone was undisguised.

"Gil-"

"What happened!" Moving closer to him, Gilbert gently but firmly held Matthew's shoulders, as the blonde tried to stutter something about a mutual agreement-

A whimper escaped Mattie's throat, and he cringed. _No, no, he'll find out! Cover it, cover it! _"Please, I don't want to talk about Ivan...Gil, I let you come in because we haven't seen each other for a couple weeks, so just…"

The albino seemed to relax a little at that, but was obviously still irritated about Ivan, wondering what had gone on. "_Ja_…._Es tut mir leid_, I only wanted to make sure you weren't hurt." Embracing his friend softly, they stayed like that until the blonde moved his head, resting it on Gilbert's thin chest, exposing a portion of his neck.

There was a love bite there, picked out by Gilbert's ruby orbs. He ground his teeth and clamped his jaw. Then, he looked at it again. _That's not a normal love bite. _The skin was clearly punctured deeply by teeth, the scabs fresh and the bruising surrounding it dark in colour. That was more like a hallmark. He placed a white fingertip near it, and Mattie jumped back.

"_Was ist dass_, Mattie?" His eyes were flaming again, nostrils flared in anger.

Said man jolted, pulled his hair over it once more. "I-i-it's just a h-hickey, Gilbert-"

"Like _fuck_ it is!" Came the heated response. "What else has that fucker done?"

Mattie's eyes watered. He wouldn't show him, not now. He was tired of taking his clothes off for another person's benefit.

But Gilbert stepped closer, slowly. Matthew wouldn't meet his eyes and he felt like his heart was going to rip down the middle. _Who in their right mind would want to hurt him? ….Maybe a person has to be crazy in order to do so._

"Mattie...please tell me I'm overreacting…" The white-haired man swallowed the lump in his throat, the distance between them but a few centimetres, yet it felt like miles. The petite man said no words.

"T-then, let me know for certain it was Ivan…" Unexpectedly Matthew lifted his head, jaw clamped, eyes seemingly swollen after crying so much before. His eyes dilated.

_Holy shit, it really was him. Braginski's been beating up Mattie, and Gott knows what else he's been doing to him. _

Inside his head, the cat awoke. It licked its lips, along it's fangs which grew in size. This was a bigger cat than the norm. This was a sleek black lioness, bare of mane yet cold in heart. She stood on the crevices of Gilbert's tortured thoughts and roared, pristine claws desperate to tear flesh.

The albino began to laugh. Not his mocking cackle, nor his sweet chuckle. This was the manic laughter of a madman drowning in the lust for revenge.

Mattie backed away, almost terrified. "G-Gil."

"...him…"

Blonde eyebrows furrowed. "What?" Gilbert had laughed so much he was bent double, thin hands clamped onto his knees; slowly, his head of layered white hair turned upwards, those red eyes practically sparking. "I'll kill him."

The Canadian took shuddering breaths, "_Non_, Gilbert, you can't-"

"I'll kill him!" He was making for the open door.

Mattie raced to it, shut and bolted it, as Gilbert loomed over him. "Open it, Mattie."

He shook his head. "I won't do that." The lioness crouched, her blue eyes glistening in their black-lined sockets, ready to pounce. _Wrong target, kitty_.

"Matthew, open the door." Still the blonde refused, his voice growing firmer. "He's out of my life now. I have no reason to see him again. You don't need to do this."

"_Ja_ I do!" His hands hit the door, either side of Mattie's head. "That bastard deserves death! Open the door!" Matthew was very aware of who - what - he was dealing with. This wasn't the normal Gilbert; this was a wild animal on the verge of escape, and it was his job to keep the gate closed. He could see the hairs on Gilbert's hands stand up, like fur.

His nails were digging into the wood.

_Hold him off until he's stable. He'll come to his senses soon, _Mattie tried to reassure himself. _He's got to._

"Why...why did you let him…" Those red eyes now looked lamenting. Gently, Mattie put a hand to the side of Gilbert's face. "I thought I loved him," He lied uncertainly. "I thought if I let him do that, then I was helping him. But I couldn't take it anymore."

"You shouldn't have taken it in the first place…" Gilbert leaned into the touch, calming down for a minute. _I need to get Mattie's other hand off the door_, he thought.

Softly, Gilbert pressed a kiss to Mattie's cheek, and then, sensing no refusal, planted another on the Canadian's lips.

Mattie was stunned, but kissed back after a few seconds, his other hand leaving the door and wrapping around-

Thin air. Gilbert moved, unlocking and opening the bedroom door, snarling as he sprinted down the hallway and to the front door.

"Gil...GILBERT!" Mattie yelled after him, trying to catch up. His voice was so fucking quiet, _why_ couldn't he make his voice loud enough?! "Gilbert, stop! He's after you, he's after _you_! This is what he wants!"

A startled Arthur, the only parent present, appeared. "What's all this commotion?" Gilbert was oblivious, opening the front door- "Don't do it! Please!" Screams left Matthew's throat and followed him, but he was too far gone to hear.

Unable to chase him, too weak, too abused, Mattie sunk to the floor just inside the doorframe. _He was talking about murder. I don't know what he's capable of in this state. He...he manipulated me._

_I could've just released a killer._

Arthur stood behind him, utterly confused, as his son cried and the form of Gilbert Beilschmidt raced into the concrete jungle.

* * *

_Thud, thud, thud, thud_. He didn't know where he was running, only that he was on the hunt. He started to run in the direction he'd seen Mattie come from, eyes clenched open, darting around to get the best view of his surroundings.

A blinding darkness was descending onto the town, layering everything in black, some parts only kept at bay by petty lamp posts or house lights.

Luckily for him, Gilbert had cat's eyes: he felt people's presence before he saw them walking down the streets; he sensed where to run before his mind agreed. Past the coffee shop, past the local library, scanning over little alleyways and along roads. Eventually his legs had carried him to the edge of town, near to the multi-storey car park.

Gilbert's feet tread lightly, like paws, making no sound as he approached another alleyway, the smell of rotting garbage strong as it had been left in wheelie bins for foxes to ravage. Steam coiled up from drains and the walls were lined with slime mould.

His head was spinning after running for so long; it seemed like the walls of the buildings housing the alley were breathing. In, out, in, out. _Rein, raus. Verdammt fiesling, Ivan!_

Looking down at his feet, he noticed that the brown claws had grown from his toenails, puncturing through the rubber soles of his trainers. His hands, too, looked odd: the claws had replaced his fingernails, the blood dripping off of them from where they'd broken through the skin.

The lioness let out a mumble of a growl, but her attention was taken by another sound. Gilbert looked around as the sound came again: a malicious chuckle, wrapped thickly in a foreign accent.

_Hiss_! He moved too late, the lioness dug her teeth into his thoughts; a cold metal bar was placed over Gilbert's throat and he was yanked into the wall.

A large body pressed against his, preventing any movement. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid. _Dummkopf, running off with murder on the mind, and no fucking WEAPONS!_

Out of the corner of his eyes, Gilbert could see two shadows. They looked like a man engaged in combat with a beast, though which one he was, Gilbert didn't know.

"Привет, Гилберт," Greeted Ivan in that thick mother tongue of his.

"Bastard," Retorted the albino, barely managing to breathe as the pipe was pressed into his jugular. Ivan pulled them away from the wallas Gilbert struggled, panting, feeling his head lighten.

"Disorientated prey cannot run," Commented the Russian, long trenchcoat flowing around his body. "Shame."

_He wants a hunt_, the German realised. He scowled. _Then I'll give him one. _Throwing his head back in a sharp headbutt which caught Ivan's nose, Gilbert was subject to a few terrifying seconds of complete asphyxiation before the pipe was removed. Ivan cursed, already swinging the weapon back to the white-haired male.

Gilbert ducked while his head cleared, dodged another swing by millimetres.

Sucking in lungfuls of air he ran out of the alley, onto the empty street. As he ran, he saw his faint shadow in the darkness. With wide red eyes he observed it's transformation into a cat's shadow.

The lioness.

_I can't turn and fight just yet; he's weakened me. Gott verdammt!_

Gilbert couldn't hear another set of feet. In fact, other than his breathing and footsteps, everything seemed too quiet. Passing the library, next to the coffee shop, there were a couple of large skips. Darting behind them, he sat and listened.

Waited. Listened.

The only sound he heard was a growling deep inside his mind, that of a bloodthirsty mammal which shook his skull. _Not yet, kitty_.

A stone bounced off the side of the skip, drawing a frightened yelp from the albino. Dark laughter followed, and the massive frame of Ivan Braginski split the scene before those red orbs. "Are you not going to fight?"

"..." Getting to his feet, bracing his muscles, the albino replied darkly, "_Nein. Ich werde dich töten._" He launched himself at Ivan, the lead pipe deflecting off his forearms, as he gripped the pipe.

They pushed and pulled, Ivan trying to trip him but Gilbert was too fast; trying another tactic, Ivan brought his knee into Gilbert's stomach. The hit knocked him down, his healing ribs having also been aggravated. He lay on the cold concrete, gasping, his head pounding.

"Pathetic boy." The words came from Ivan's lips, yet Gilbert heard two voices. One carried on speaking, echoing into my brain. _So weak. So unstable. Let me take care of this._ It was Ludwig's voice again, the perfect little brother he'd been overthroned by.

He could see the cat, lurking behind Ivan's silhouette. It grew again, it's fur seeming to mould into the Russian's, his pale hair mixing with the black.

A dark lioness seemed to perch on his shoulders, both her paws draped on his chest and her head on top of his. Her long tail curled round his neck, the scarf turning obsidian.

Gilbert's blood turned cold as it locked gazes with him, the blue eyes like ice. It spoke inanimately, through Ludwig's voice again. _Come on. Rip this monster to shreds._

* * *

Light drops of rain fell from the Heavens and tickled the skin of Gilbert's face as Ivan loomed above him, expectant. _Cliché._

"Your move." The thick Russian accent bought his anger, his determination to the surface. As the rain steadily grew heavier Gilbert moved; he pushed himself backwards through Ivan's legs, feeling the concrete scraps his back as he rolled to the side, sprang up, ran again. With a shout the Russian rushed after him. Gilbert worried Ivan would throw his pipe at him, but amended that he wouldn't want to lose his weapon.

Beside him ran the lioness, her preened fur glinting under the streetlights, her claws clicking in time with Gilbert's heartbeats.

_Higher ground. I need a place where I can see him but he can't see me. Ich brauche…._ His eyes snapped to the colossal building to his left, a few metres away. The multi-storey car park, which was surrounded by many rubbish skips full to the brim with trash bags and clutter.

He veered, hisfeet taking him over the ground floor, to the green door marked **stairs**.

As he bounded upwards, cursing that he hadn't taken the elevator. _Faster, verdammt!_ 3rd Floor. 4th Floor. 5th Floor, putting him tens of feet in the air.

Gilbert paused, breathless, behind a stone pillar. It wasn't as good a vantage point as he'd expected. Yes, the staircases overlooked parts of the levels but there were still plenty of hiding places among the cars. He had to be careful: he was dealing with a hunter.

His ears picked up no stray sound, above the sound of clashing rain outside. "Come out, Ivan, you coward!" He yelled, fighting to keep his voice even. A footstep was heard. Then another, coming from his right. Gilbert whirled, eyes wide, the pipe crashing into the side of his face, drawing a mangled scream from a tightened throat. "You are the one who is running." Another blow landed on Gilbert, this time hitting his upper arm. "_Gott dammit,_ you prick!"

He rolled, came up and tried to throw a left hook at Ivan's head but it was weak; Ivan sidestepped easily.

The pipe swung again, hitting the pillar and making an echoing _crack_ as it snapped under the force. The 5 metre metal length was now in two pieces: the 3 metre bit, and the 2 metre part Ivan was holding.

Sensing opportunity the white-haired man lunged across the blacktop for the 3 metre part, ignoring the throb of his bruised skull. His pale fingers grabbed it just as Ivan threw himself down, onto Gilbert, attempting again to suffocate him.

Evidently, there was something about this intimate modus operandi that called to the monstrously strong Russian.

Gilbert, now glancing into the heartless orbs owned by Ivan, immediately realised something: _Ivan's killed before. He's lured people to his home before. He hurt Mattie._

It was no longer another man trying to kill him, oh no. A Siberian tiger, 4 metres long and weighing 300kg, was now wrestling him, it's massive paws holding down the pipe fragment to his jugular. It was as white as the driven snow, a pure beast created for destruction. No...Gilbert thought, it didn't just represent chaos, it represented Ivan's insanity. Man and beast had merged, become one. At least Gilbert was still keeping his under wraps. As his body began to feel more distant he heard a snort of hot air, brushing his face.

The lioness was prowling, judging, snarling at Ivan. _It's a much bigger cat, more powerful. I can't...I'm not strong enough…_ Gilbert understood why the black lioness hadn't attacked; she cared for her own safety more than his.

The purple eyes were the same, but sharper, concentrated on watching the life drain from the albino's devilish eyes, eagerly awaiting the thrill of the kill. "W-why..._warum_ do you want to kill me?" Choked Gilbert, wheezing heavily under the cat's weight let alone the pressure applied to his throat. The tiger bared its four-inch canines, reverting back to Ivan Braginski. "Some cats are territorial, Гилберт. It is only natural."

"_Nein!_" Gilbert coughed, saliva running down his mouth. The lioness hissed. "I'm n-not some prey! Y-you won't kill me-"

"Нет? But you came to kill me. And I don't want to die yet." Cold metal bit into pulsating flesh like the jaws of a rabid hound.

_Now. Now, you stupid cat!_ The lioness jumped onto them both, her claws ripping Ivan's body - not that he felt anything - and melded herself to Gilbert's being, back inside his head. The albino blinked. When his eyes opened again, his eyesight seemed impeccably clear.

He could see Ivan's perspiration, the grains of gravel on the blacktop, the lattice of cracks in the storey ceiling, a solitary spider hanging from a delicate thread in the yellowy light.

Gilbert Beilschmidt had cat's eyes.

For the first time since they'd met, Ivan looked scared. All traces of glacial fur and tiger-like prowess disappeared to the aura of a common house-cat. Gilbert snarled, feeling fangs instead of human teeth scrape his lips, pushing the Russian off and away from him, crouching on his legs, shoulders hunched.

Ivan jittered to his booted feet, fear now obvious on his rounded features. He sprinted for the sixth Floor.

Gilbert didn't say anything; after all, cats didn't talk, did they? At least not to humans. His footing was sure and light as he chased after him, running up the car ramp into a fairly empty level. Still, Ivan was far ahead, whimpering, using his hands to grip railings to stop his shaking legs from buckling. Somehow, he'd seen that Gilbert wasn't himself right now: he was simply a predator looking for his hunter.

And that realisation shook him up more than any earthquake could. He'd hunted before, hurt before, captured many a snivelling _homo sapien_, but never had one turn the tables on him.

Now such a rebel was hot on his heels, a shadow filled with physical matter.

7th Floor, 8th Floor, 9th Floor and Ivan's breathing was thin, his huge body burdened with carrying its heavy weight at a high speed for so long. Something caught his eye; he spotted Gilbert running silently on top of car roofs, watching him, gaze calculating. Gilbert jumped off a green _Clio_'s roof, his leg stuck out - his foot smashed into Ivan's side, jostling his balance. But he couldn't stop, he couldn't, he'd be killed!

A vicious roar, erupting from a human mouth, rang in his ears as he tripped fell, onto the final Floor of the car park, completely open to the elements, the rain soaking him instantly. There were only two cars parked here: a _Kia Rio_ and a 4x4. He dived behind the larger, uncaring of how pointless such a move was. Out of the dingy glow of the inside car park, footsteps deliberately slow and loud, came the albino. His eyes shone with a savage excitement as he advanced to the large vehicle.

His perfected sight picked up another detail: there was a slash in the fencing around the open top level, next to the 4x4, from where a car must have reversed into it.

_That gash is wide enough to push a human through_. That idea brought Gilbert back to his senses. Had he really just contemplated actual murder _again_? And - _Wait, how did I get up here? I was on Floor 5…_

Looking over the high bonnet of the car, he saw a cowering man. _He hurt Mattie. He beat him up, scarred him, bit him. Death is a blessing for him_.

Jumping over the hood, he hauled Ivan to his feet, kneeing his stomach and elbowing his back when he sank to his knees, spluttering. A punch to that oversized nose.

Punch, punch, punch, Ivan yelping and mewling, his face caving in. "Нет! Нет, пожалуйста, не-" Gilbert growled and shoved him against the 4x4, panting heavily into his bloodied face, his grip tightening in rage.

"_Armselig Drecksack_!" Screamed the younger man, slamming Ivan's body into the metal. "You fucking hurt Matthew! You _beat _him! He didn't fucking do anything and you scarred him!"

_I'll tear him apart, body and soul_. Unexpectedly, a low chuckle escaped Ivan. "You are too protective of him. He was merely a toy." _A toy_? Thought Gilbert, nostrils flared. _A TOY?! _He delivered another bone-shattering punch to the Russian's sturdy face: it was now hardly recognisable as human. "I'm protecting Mattie's innocence, his being! I'm defending it right now, you _Schwanz_! _Ich_-" Ivan began to chuckle again."What's so _fucking_ funny?!"

A pause. Then, "Mattie has no innocence anymore, Гилберт." It was a sentence Gilbert never wanted to hear from this man, this _monster_. It was obvious he'd hit his best friend, but anything beyond that...had been shut out of his thought spectrum. He'd refused to believe it.

_Oh, Gott, Mattie….my little Birdie…._ He felt like blood was running into his eyes, adding to the sting of the lashing acid rainfall.

"I'll kill you, you _worthless_, _savage_ sack of shit!" Gilbert went to shove Ivan to the hold in the fence, but a loud _ssshick_ sound stopped him. He looked down.

Ivan had opened the hatch used for inserting oil to the 4x4, and was holding a lighter to it. The flame flickered like Gilbert's anger, but was fragile like his mentality.

"Вы не будете," Whispered Ivan just above the deluge, "because I will kill us both first."

* * *

"You wouldn't." It was clear Gilbert was afraid. If Ivan dropped it into the hatch…

"дa, I would."

Fingers clenched the trenchcoat. "You s-said you didn't want to die." Smiling a bloody smile, the Russian whispered, "I said I didn't want to die _yet_. That was a few minutes ago now."

….Gilbert's shoulders slumped and he shut his eyes. It was a stalemate.

But not for long.

"Aaah!" He grabbed Ivan's shoulders, spun him a metre away and to the hole in the fencing, Ivan spreading his limbs at the last second to prevent his body falling through it. His back facing open air, his angered, cut-up face glaring hatred at the albino trying to push him to his death. But Gilbert hesitated. He….couldn't. He couldn't kill him. Even after all Ivan had done, all he would probably do, Gilbert couldn't make himself take a life. _I'm not...a murderer. I'm not the demon people think I am._ He sighed. _Ivan deserves death; that doesn't mean he'll get it. At least not by my hands._

"I leave you your life," The German decided, his grip loosening. "Get out of this place, Ivan. Never come back. If you do, Mattie will turn you in to the Police, or worse," He leaned in. "I'll make sure you die."

Grinning like a madman, Ivan hissed, "до свидания, Гилберт!" and freed his arm holding the still-alight lighter over Gilbert's shoulder, pushing him away to sprint back into the car park. Within seconds, he was gone.

It was as if in slow-motion: Gilbert twisted his body, a shout of terror leaving his throat as he saw the lighter fly through the air, accurately aimed into the open fuel hatch of the 4x4….

_Nein. NEIN! _He had no time to pause, no time to think. Gilbert stepped forward to the gash in the wire fencing, and looked down. It was an awfully long way to fall. He jumped as the two cars exploded.

A shockwave of heat enveloped him as fire spiralled upwards into the night sky, defeating the rain. Gilbert fell, the effusion of fire curling in his wake.

Both men had murder on their minds that night, but as it turned out, only one of them had ever had the courage to try and carry out the act.

* * *

Long, long, _long_ chapter huh? You guys wanted an update, you got one! XD I have around four weeks of exams now...joy...so this shall have to sate your interests for now my lovelies~

Translations (Please correct if they're wrong):

_Wo dann?_ - Where then?

_Was ist dass? - _What is that?

_Rein, raus. Verdammt fiesling, Ivan! _- In, out. Goddamn git, Ivan!

Привет, Гилберт (_Privet Gilbert) - _Hi, Gilbert

_Nein. Ich werde dich töten _- No. I will kill you

_Ich brauche…. - _I need...

Нет! Нет, пожалуйста, не (_Nyet! Nyet, pozhaluysta, ne_) - No! No, please don't

_Armselig Drecksack_! - Pathetic shit!

_Schwanz_! - Dick!

Вы не будете (_Vy ne budete_) - You will not

до свидания, Гилберт! (_do svidaniya, Gilbert!_) - Goodbye, Gilbert! (I am aware it's formal)


	13. Chapter 13

_Fire destroys and it creates. What emerges from an explosion may not be the same thing as it once was. If you are a fuel, you have to burn. If you are already burned, then does that make you immortal? _

* * *

It was early morning, 2am to be exact. It was not the drizzling rain and cold gales which caused pale eyelids to wince open, no, it was the blaring sounds of a firetruck and several Police cars. The man who'd fallen from the roof of the structure, fallen from his bloodlust revenge, now lay in a skip, deeply buried and covered with filth.

The force of the landing had made sure he was invisible to most eyes, as garbage bags obscured his figure. Carefully, Gilbert Beilschmidt looked around, amazed, at the scenery lit by flashing blue and yellow lights.

_I survived. Oh mein Gott, I survived. _He'd honestly been expecting to meet his maker after jumping, but evidently his life was not destined to be over just yet. Gilbert had noticed the skips below, of course, but he still thought the force of his landing would kill him.

He'd felt completely free as his body plummeted, believing there was a death waiting for him. He had no idea what came after death, but as long as it was different from this world, he'd figured he wouldn't care.

So maybe it was natural that a sense of disappointment washed over him as he slowly sat up and examined himself. No bones broken, a few scratches and bruises. His neck and arms were a little burned, but nothing fatal. _How is it possible that I have no serious injuries_, he wondered, refusing to blame it on something as relative as luck.

Not even his Iphone had been broken - the screen was mildly scratched if anything. He made sure no Policemen were doing a round search and hopped out of the skip, feeling light-headed and disgruntled.

He unlocked his phone: 23 texts and 5 missed calls from Matthew, along with 8 missed calls from Ludwig. _Verdammt. _

Gilbert didn't want to talk right now: his throat was immensely sore from screaming, shouting, and the strangulation. He was pretty sure half of his face was bruised, too. Bits of shrapnel and melted metal lay on the ground, all around the building. Civilians had come to investigate but the Police had placed yellow tape to block them while the firefighters put out the remainder of the fire. There was an ambulance present, but it didn't look like there were any casualties. _Not yet, anyway. Ivan, you murderous terrorist._

He took off again, jogging lightly back to his apartment, fishing his keys from his jeans pocket and turning it as quietly as possible in the lock.

Closing the door, he removed his shoes and tiptoed over the wooden floorboards…

_Click_. Bright light filled the room, and Gilbert looked over by the light switch, next to which, stood Ludwig. "_Bruder_."

"Don't start, I'm going to bed." He resumed walking but Ludwig bisected his path, turning on the TV.

"What happened to you?" He asked. Gilbert folded his thin arms, sighing. "I fell down some stairs." Ludwig nodded in understanding, then commented, "Were those the stairs in the _multi-storey car park_, by any chance?"

…_.Well, shit._ Ludwig had turned the channel to show a live new coverage of the scene, where reporters were yapping about there being two car explosions but as of yet - "No casualties." Gilbert was relieved to hear that.

"What were you doing up there?" His brother queried.

"Nothing that interests you." Gilbert opted to move closer to the hallway to his bedroom. Ludwig scowled. "_Eigentlich, ja_, _das interessiert mich._ Two cars exploded. You were there. What happened?"

"_Verdammt, Bruder._ Look, I….I was chased up there, and that's all you need to know-"

"Do not limit this for a need-to-know basis!" The blonde retorted frustratedly, "Tell me why you look like you've been beaten up and thrown into a fire!"

"I had a fight with someone, ok?" Gilbert snapped, managing to shut his little brother up. "...Me and this guy had a fight. He chased me onto the roof and then threw his fucking _lighter_ into the fuel tank of a car. You wanna know why I look half-incinerated? I had to jump off the fucking roof before my guts were toasted!" This yelling was _not_ helping his vocals.

It wasn't a complete lie, Ivan really had tried to kill him. He'd tried so hard.

_Unfortunately for you I'm tougher than that, Braginski._

Ludwig's bright blue eyes were wide with shock, his mouth slightly open. "You…._Mein Gott_...Are you alright? Are you hurt? I'm sorry, I was just…" Sometimes it really made Gilbert smile to see how quickly Ludwig went from big and scary to concerned and cute.

The albino smiled softly, glad that he was still alive to witness such a cute version of Ludwig. "I'm alive. Which, by the way, _ist gut_." He turned to head for his bedroom. "_Gute Nacht, Bruder_. Get some sleep."

* * *

A fast rapping of knuckles against the apartment door brought a drowsy Ludwig from his sleep, dressed only in boxers and his black vest, lumbering to open it.

_Why am I such a light sleeper._ He looked surprised when he saw who was responsible for this 8am wake-up call after such a late night.

"Oh, Matthew. _Morgen_." The blonde Canadian looked like he'd been strapped to an electric chair, he was so jumpy. "I-is Gilbert here? D-did h-he come home last night-?"

"Calm down, he's here, he is fine." Ludwig answered quickly. _What does Matthew know about last night?_ "He got into a bit of trouble, but-"

"What?" Mattie blurted, eyes wide. "Is he hurt? What happened?"

Ludwig folded his arms. "Matthew, I don't know. I don't think he's badly hurt, though." Purple eyes blinked and Mattie seemed to shrink back from the German's firm voice. "S-sorry. I just….please can you ask him t-to call me?"

"Ask him yourself." Gilbert's voice carried to Mattie's ears. Ludwig stepped aside, approaching his brother. A conversation in German followed, ending with Ludwig stumbling back to his room for more sleep.

Gilbert walked up, slowly, to the door. His bruised face was in clear view, and the Canadian's lips tightened when he saw it. Then, Gilbert glanced down the hallway. "Are those cops?" His voice was unsteady, hoarse.

Mattie looked down. "Uhm...y-yeah, but they-"

"You got the cops on me?" Gilbert accused, his red eyes narrowing. Mattie shook his head frantically. "_Non, non_! They just wanna talk to you! I...I filed a report last night…"

"A report?"

"O-of….domestic abuse…" The blonde swallowed. "Against Ivan. I figured if the Police got him first you wouldn't….make a bad decision. But I had to tell the Police why Ivan was dangerous, a-and that he was after you…"

Gilbert clenched his jaw. He wasn't sure if this felt like betrayal or an act of protection.

Mattie rushed on. "B-but I didn't tell them anything bad about you, Gil! T-they just wanna ask you a few questions at-"

"At the fucking station," Gilbert spat, turning around to go and dress. "I got it."

* * *

They suspected he was involved in the car explosions the night before, Gilbert could see it on their faces. Naturally, he had been, but that didn't mean he wanted to tell them.

There were two officers sitting opposite him in the interview room. Both men. The short one had black buzz-cut hair and the other was a tall burly man with short blonde hair.

Gilbert secretly named the blonde one Officer Lennie and the shorter Officer George.

"Mr Beilschmidt," Officer Lennie began, "would you mind divulging where you were on the night of the explosions?"

_Ja, I would_. "I was out getting groceries." He tried not to hesitate, and was surprised at how well he was lying.

"Can you tell us between which times you were out?"

"From about 7pm to half eight." Lennie frowned. "Seems like along time for a little grocery shopping."

"I walked, and of course I saw Mattie and helped him out."

Officer George spoke up. "What exactly did Matthew say had happened to him?" His voice was firm, hostile.

_Good cop, bad cop, huh. Ok, I'll play_. "Well, he didn't want to tell me anything at first, naturally."

"Naturally." Repeated George. Damn he was really getting on Gilbert's nerves.

Nevertheless, the albino continued, keeping his posture relaxed. _Just tell the truth for this bit, Mattie wouldn't have needed to change anything._ "...I took him to a cafe to get him cleaned up and calm him down. Then we...went back to his parent's place."

"You didn't think to come straight to the Police?" Lennie this time.

"_Nein_, I still didn't know what had happened to Mattie. I just thought it was a fallout between them."

"Aren't fallouts typical signs of an unhealthy relationship?" Queried George, his facial expression blank.

Gilbert's jaw tightened. "...I don't jump to those kinds of conclusions, Officer." He had to restrain himself from growling the last word.

"Ok. We understand - or have at least been informed - that Ivan Braginski was attempting to hurt you. Can you confirm this, and if so, have you any ideas why he might have been after you?"

Gilbert licked his lips. "...I can't confirm whether he was after me, no. However, I trust Mattie's word as I know Ivan was one to brag about his plans. I only met him a couple times at art classes."

Officer George stirred again. "Nice, kid, your stories are matching up so far. Damn lucky no one was killed or hurt in those explosions."

"Calm down," Warned Officer Lennie, as he spoke then to Gilbert. "Again, can you fathom why Ivan might have wanted to hurt you?"

Yes, oh yes, he definitely could. "...Ivan was jealous of mine and Matthew's friendship."

"Understandable," George interrupted. "You and him seem quite close - a partner would no doubt envy that. Can I ask, did you say Ivan hadn't actually hurt you?"

Red eyes met narrowed gunmetal grey. "No, he's never touched me." George leaned back. "Then you must have hit a lamp post _really_ hard." He gestured to the fresh bruising on Gilbert's face. _I knew he was waiting to call me out on that._ "_Ja_," Gilbert replied carefully. "It's amazing what happens when you're not paying attention."

Silence. Nobody moved in the room.

Officer Lennie's thick eyebrows sunk. "Did you witness the car explosions?"

"_Nein, _I told you, I was taking care of Mattie." _Shit, I'm not convincing enough_. "You can ask Arthur, Mattie's dad, if I was there in the time slot I stated."

"We might very well do that," Mumbled Officer George. "'Kay, Beilschmidt, thank you for your time."

"We'll be in touch if any other information arises." Agreed Officer Lennie, both giving Gilbert cold, wary looks as he left the room.

* * *

"They think I blew up the fucking cars," Gilbert snapped, his ruby glare focusing on the Canadian sat in the hallway of the Police Station. He arose, hands clenched together. "What-"

"They just want to find some evidence to get me locked up, for fucking _terrorism_!" His accented voice carried loudly as he stormed past the blonde, into the open air.

Mattie hurried after him, his too-big sneakers tapping as he jogged. "T-they don't think that! L-look, just calm down-"

But Gilbert wasn't done, even as he power-walked. "No? I have this stupid mark on my face, caused by your psychotic ex-boyfriend! Think they won't put _zwei und zwei zusammen_?" Matthew stopped walking. "Gilbert." The tone of his voice, quiet yet commanding, got the albino to face him. The Canadian had already been filled in vaguely by Ludwig.

"You were going to murder him." Mattie continued. "You manipulated me and said you were going to kill him. I knew he was after you, so I got the Police involved before you did something you'd regret."

_Oh, trust me, I wouldn't regret it_, Gilbert thought. _Even now, I wouldn't regret it._ Then suddenly he saw it. He saw doubt and uncertainty and worst of all, _fear_, in those softly lilac eyes.

"You think I did it." The words leapt into Mattie's ears, soft and true.

Despite his anxiety, Mattie stepped closer to the white-haired man. "Did you." It was more a demand than a question, the sort you would ask if you already knew the answer.

He couldn't believe this. Mattie really thought he could….. "_Nein_! I didn't murder the fucker!" He spat, lips curled in a snarl. "I had the opportunity, but you know what? I figured why should I sacrifice my liberty for his life? I can't believe you thought I'd _murdered_ him." Mattie looked disgusted. "Do you not remember the things you said to me before running off? You said you were going to kill him and I'll be damned if you didn't look sincere! You had murder on your mind." Another step closer. "And you knew it."

They both knew he was right, Gilbert _had_ planned to carry out a murder. "Mattie, _bitte, glauben Sie mir..._I did not kill him. I told him to leave this place and never come back."

Mattie's bespectacled gaze bored into Gilbert's, searching for confirmation of hands unwashed with blood. After a few minutes, he looked away and began to walk home, leaving the albino stranded and longing.

* * *

_May 5th, 2014_

_I gave this up for a while. There was other shit going on. But I...picked it up again because it's easier to wield a pen than a blade, richtig? I'm reading my last entry….ha, I wish things were as back then. When Mattie still trusted me. When he was still...my friend. Just my friend. __I fucked up again. Gott, I'm so useless. Pointless and pathetic. I almost…..and Ivan….Mattie, why would you put yourself in danger like that?_

Pulling back from his writing, Gilbert pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Everything was going wrong.

But then, how exactly would things have gone right after he'd run off with a plan to murder his best friend's ex? Was this the soppy point in the story where Gilbert was just supposed to crawl back to Mattie in tears, for Mattie to forgive them and a new relationship blossoms?

_Nein, I think not. He doesn't want me now, and I….have no idea what to feel. I can't believe I ever complained about feeling numb. _

An inexplicable bout of anger surged through him, and he threw his pen across the room, the ink cartridge smashing and creating a splodge of black on the pale paint. The shape it made, seemed to Gilbert like a maple leaf. Canada. Canadian. Matthew Williams. He bit his trembling lip as he reflected on the past few days. He'd alienated both his brother and Mattie, _and_ he'd almost committed murder - or could've been a murder victim.

The ink ran down in trails, forming three marks which looked like scratches. The scratches made by a cat.

Ah, yes. There she was. He looked to the beautiful black feline enchantress as she lay on his bed. She paused in the cleaning of her fur to stare at him. _Should've killed him_, she voiced.

Gilbert never saw the black house cat anymore. He didn't see the lucrative violent lynx, either. Now it was only her, the lioness, who dared to haunt him like some kind of plague. "If I had killed him, I would be in worse trouble now." He responded.

She scraped her long claws across the bedsheet, making a low zipping sound. _If you had killed him you would have felt powerful_.

"_Nein_, you would have felt powerful. I always feel weak. Weak…" Speaking of weakness, Gilbert removed his trousers and pulled his boxers up a bit to see the mild scarring of the cuts on his thighs. He hadn't made any for a while now, the cat had overtaken his attention.

It made him recall a memory of his childhood, when he and Ludwig were still living with their parents.

* * *

_It was Christmas morning. An eager pair of brothers bounded down the stairs, aged 5 and 8 respectively. _

"Kommen auf, Bruder!" _The younger yelled in glee as they reached the living room. Under the tree sat but a few presents, yet they excited the boys nonetheless. Their parents soon followed suit, having been loudly awoken by the ecstatic squeals of their children. The slim, narrow frame of their mother filled the doorway, her long fair hair spilling over her shoulders. "_Warten für dein Vater, Jungs." _The children spun, nodded. _

_Gilbert swallowed as he heard his father's domineering footfalls, and looked down as the massive outline of their father overshadowed that of his wife. She gave him a nod of respect, but she was no submissive woman around his presence. That was probably why he'd fallen for her: she was one of the few people not intimidated by him. _

"Guten Morgen, Vater, fröhliche Weihnachten," _They boys greeted calmly. He nodded and took his seat in his large armchair, toned muscles visible beneath his nightclothes. _

_Gilbert could feel his father's green eyes on him as they reached to give their presents to their parents, then reach for their own. Gilbert and Ludwig had made their father a small statue of him - or at least, how they saw him - out of clay, a strongly built warrior of a human. He unwrapped it, looked directly at Ludwig and thanked him, but to Gilbert he said nothing. It had always been this way. Silent rejection of the weaker older one. _

_For their mother, they'd bought a sewing kit as it was one of her favourite hobbies; she gave a warm smile to them both. "_Vielen Dank," _She said, then looked to Gilbert. _"Gilbert? Bist du in Ordnung, Liebling?"

_Bright red eyes met her sky blue orbs. "_...Ja, Mutti." _He forced a smile._

_Ludwig had grabbed his present with a childish hurry, using his chubby fingers to unwrap it. His icy eyes sparkled at the sight: it was a toy train. A beautifully decorated, hand-painted toy train. Looked like some kind of ancient Steam Train, with working wheels and even a little whistling exhaust. His younger brother loved it, and raced it across the carpeted floor underneath the Christmas Tree. Gilbert's hands found his present: it was a thin package covered in coloured paper. His heart began to race, maybe this was what he'd been wanting!_

_The shiny plastic confirmed it. There was a coloured pencil set! And a little sketchbook! For the first time in ages a genuine grin appeared on his features and he giggled, looking to his parents. "_Danke schön, Eltern! Danke, danke, danke…" _He hugged the set close to his heart as his mother chuckled. After announcing she was going to start making breakfast, she headed to the kitchen, leaving her husband with his children._

_Their father's long blonde hair, straight and Viking-like, brushed his thick arms as he crouched next to Ludwig, a smiling softly. "_Ludwig, wie magst du dein Spielzeug?"

"Ich liebe es, Vater, danke_." The younger blonde replied. The man grabbed the train and pulled it from Ludwig's small hands. "_Wie magst du jetzt es?" _Ludwig's wide eyes looked watery, and he slumped._

"Lass ihn allein." _Gilbert snapped, standing and approaching his father. He knew it was a bad move, but his little brother didn't deserve that. He met a challenging green gaze. "_Gib es zurück_," The albino demanded._

_Now his father stood, an impressive 6 feet tall even without the boots he usually wore. Gilbert knew he thought of him as weak, pathetic, useless. Hell, even sunlight could bring his albino son to his knees, and their father sought only strong men as his kin._

_His father's hand shot out; Gilbert cringed, expecting a slap, but instead felt the pencil set being ripped from him. His father chuckled lowly as he gave Ludwig back the train. He bent down until he was face-to-face with Gilbert. He took out something from his pocket, placed it in Gilbert's tiny palm. His red eyes opened._

_Coal. There was a piece of coal in his hand. He clenched it and glared at his sadist of a parent. _

"Erfüllen nicht mein Blick." _Growled the blonde as he arose again. He spoke to him again, once he'd lowered his head of white, white hair. "You should not be disrespectful. Bad children get coal for Christmas." With that, he stroked his coal-coated fingers down Gilbert's white cheek, leaving smudge marks. After this motion he left the room. _

_Ludwig crawled over to Gilbert, holding the train close and muttering, "_B-Bruder...bist du-"

"Gehen Sie weg!" _Gilbert yelled, getting Ludwig to flinch. Ludwig was so clingy sometimes! It wasn't like he was a baby anymore!_

_Gilbert hadn't understood all of what his father had said, he hadn't perfected his English yet, but he understood 'bad children' and 'coal'. Was…..was he a bad child then? Had he done something wrong? If only his father would correct him, show him how to be better, maybe he'd gain his approval. Or even better, his respect. _

* * *

Of course, now, Gilbert did understand what his father had said. All of it. It was annoying, actually, how he used to insult Gilbert in English so he couldn't comprehend it. His father must have loved the confused look on his son's face as he called him an insolent child or a nuisance.

When their father had passed away neither of the brothers were sure how to feel. Sadness was an inevitable part of it, but for Gilbert there was a massive amount of guilt there, too.

Why? Because when he'd first heard the news he'd been _happy_. So, so happy and free. And people were not supposed to have that reaction when a parent dies.

Ludwig had taken care of their mother for a time after the awkward funeral, and Gilbert had never even thought to visit the old man's grave. _He wouldn't be strong and scary now,_ the albino consoled himself. _He'd be a pile of decaying bones just like he deserves to be. Me and Lud never did anything wrong. He told me to defend myself but got angry when I fought at school against bullies. He would kick me down and tell me to stay down, then mock me for not getting back up._

_Ludwig was always luckier than me, he didn't hurt him as much. Not while I was around, anyway. _

"_Du bist schwach, Vater,"_ A pale hand pushed back short strands of hair. "_Schwach und tot._"

* * *

*Throws open door* I'm BAAACK! Have you missed me? Of course you have. Leave a review, they are the food source of authors~

Translations: (Mwahaha all German)

_Eigentlich, ja_, _das interessiert mich. _- Actually, yes, that interests me.

_zwei und zwei zusammen - _two and two together

_Bitte, glauben Sie mir - _Please, believe me

Kommen auf, Bruder! - Come on, brother!

Warten für dein Vater, Jungs. - Wait for your father, boys.

Guten Morgen, Vater, fröhliche Weihnachten - Good morning, father, merry Christmas

Bist du in Ordnung, Liebling? - Are you okay, darling?

Danke schön, Eltern! - Thank you so much, parents!

Ludwig, wie magst du dein Spielzeug? - Ludwig, how do you like your toy?

Ich liebe es, Vater, danke - I love it, father, thank you

Wie magst du jetzt es? - How do you like it now?

Lass ihn allein. - Leave him alone.

Gib es zurück - Give it back

Erfüllen nicht mein Blick. - Do not meet my gaze.

Gehen Sie weg! - Go away!

_Du bist schwach, Vater - _You are weak, father

_Schwach und tot._ - Weak and dead.


End file.
